Toby and Jim's Long Journey Home
by HappyAuriga
Summary: Our favourite potions master and our teenage hero are caught in an ambush.
1. Chapter 1

**Toby and Jim´s Long Journey Home**

"Blocked again! Tell me, Potter, does anything I say ever penetrate this thick skull of yours? I´ve been telling you to occlude! Why don´t you end my misery and just surrender to the Dark Lord?"

Professor Severus Snape, potions master, spy and unwilling duelling coach of Harry Potter, was livid with rage. He stood towering over the youth, whom his last – defensive – spell had propelled against the wall of the Room of Requirement.

Harry glared up at the man, equally furious. He propped up on his elbow. "You´d like that," he hissed, "wouldn´t you? And while I´m at it, why don´t I ask you to hand me over to him? I´m sure your reward would be beyond your wildest dreams."

Snape returned the glare unblinkingly. "You know nothing of my dreams, Potter. Now get up and try again and for Merlin´s sake, occlude!"

"I´m trying," snapped Potter, "only you´re not telling me how!"

Snape returned to his position and waited until the boy stood. "Ready?"

"It wouldn´t hurt to give me a minute to catch my breath, you know!"

"The Dark Lord won´t give you a second!"

"You are not the Dark Lord!" Potter didn´t sound entirely sure.

Snape smirked. "On the count of three. – Three!" He threw a hex at the panting boy. They had been duelling for more than two hours and Potter hadn´t had a second of rest during the whole period of time.

The boy raised his wand at admirable speed, given the grade of exhaustion he was suffering. He attempted a shield charm, but due to his fatigue it was feeble and the hex cut through it like a hot knife through butter.

With a howl of pain Potter collapsed against the wall. Snape was at his side with three long strides. "Are you hurt?" Usually the boy refused to give his teacher the satisfaction of voicing his agony, no matter how hard he was hit.

Concerned, Snape took in the boy´s moist eyes and the fact that he was biting his lip to keep himself from whimpering. His heart missed a beat when he saw the unmistakable traces of red on Potter´s chest. Crap! He hadn´t meant to injure the boy.

Snape knelt beside his charge and started chanting a healing charm. After a short while Potter stopped to tremble and his expression of pain changed back to one of fury.

"What were you thinking you were doing!" he burst out and pushed Snape away roughly. "A cutting hex! Was it Sectumsempra? Did you use Sectumsempra on me? You ... you ... " for a moment Potter seemed to be lost for words and Snape wondered whether it was because he hesitated to call his teacher names or because he couldn´t think of a name bad enough to call him.

"Did I ever use a spell on you to seriously hurt you?" Potter rambled on.

"What?" Snape´s voice was dangerously calm. "Do you mean to tell me that all those weeks I have been trying to teach you how to duel you have been holding back for fear of hurting me?"

Potter nodded sheepishly.

Snape seized the boy´s bloodied robes and pinned him against the wall. "Of all imbeciles I ever met you´re the worst, Potter! I´m giving up my free evenings to coach you, I risk my life! Have you any idea what he´s going to do to me if he ever catches a glimpse of these lessons in my mind? And you´re holding back?" Spit flew from Snape´s mouth as he shouted at the top of his lungs.

Potter at least had the decency to shrink by some inches at the verbal assault.

Abruptly, Snape let go of the boy and started to pace the lenght of the room, murmuring under his breath.

He was interrupted by Albus Dumbledore entering. The headmaster was dressed in robes of magnificent purple with moving pink fairies on them.

"Ah, my dear boys," he greeted them jovially, ignoring the fact that a trembling Harry Potter was leaning against one wall. "I´m glad to find you both well."

Snape stopped in his pace to glare at the headmaster. The whole situation was after all the man´s idea and therefore fault.

"The room alerted me that there was an injury," the old wizard continued, oblivious of the potions master´s fury. He stepped closer to the boy leaning against the wall, making it obvious who he cared for more.

Snape blushed at the jolt of jealousy he felt.

"I see, I see," murmured Dumbledore as he examined Potter´s robes.

"It was unintentional," Snape heard himself say.

"Of course, dear boy, of course," mused Dumbledore. "I see you healed the damage." He straightened. Two of the fairies on his robes started a game of catching. "Nevertheless I think Harry needs cuirass robes. And now that I think of it, you should have some, too, Severus. Harry may be unskilled, still, but we mustn´t forget that his raw power surpasses yours by far." – Snape winced. – "We don´t want you to get hurt once he learned to avoid your defence. You´ll go to Diagon Alley next Saturday. It´s a Hogsmeade weekend and the two of you will not arise suspicion if you leave the castle."

The headmaster turned to leave, but Snape called out to him and he stopped. "Headmaster," Snape hissed through gritted teeth, "I´m confident that Potter´s parents left him enough to buy cuirass robes, but my salary certainly doesn´t allow..."

"Don´t worry, my boy, don´t worry," a third fairy had joined the game and the three tumbled over in a heap when a fourth tripped them up. "The Order has decent operational funds. You won´t have to pay for your robes yourself, nor will Harry." He turned again.

"Headmaster!"

Dumbledore turned again with a trace of impatience. On his left shoulder three fairies were beating up a fourth.

"I can´t be seen with Potter at Diagon Alley. I´d lose my position as a spy if the Dark Lord ever heard of it." And his life if he went back to him afterwards. It remained unsaid, but the message was clear without voicing it.

"I won´t risk your health during these lessons, Severus," Dumbledore said gently. "In fact, I shouldn´t have allowed them to start before you both were sufficiently protected. The lessons, however, have to continue, they´re too important. Harry needs to learn how to fight."

Snape observed the brawling fairies leave their victim behind and resume their game of catching.

"What if we´re ambushed? The Lord and his followers have been abducting shoppers and threatening them into joining for over a month!"

"I remember your report, my boy," admitted Dumbledore, "but we have to take the risk."

"You´d risk Potter?" Snape snorted.

"You have four days to develop a strategy to get you two out of trouble if you meet deatheaters," Dumbledore pointed out benignly and with this said, he left.

Snape snorted and turned back to his student. "Any suggestions?"

Potter, still leaning against the wall, shook his head. "I can´t believe he wants us to go into the lion´s den!"

"Diagon Alley is hardly the lion´s den. They have been abducing shoppers, but they aren´t permanently present. If we´re lucky, we won´t be bothered at all."

"There´s still the problem of you being seen with me in public," Potter pointed out. "I really appreciate what you´re doing for the Order and I feel bad jeopardising your safety."

"Now there´s something new," grumbled Snape. "We´ll change our appearance."

"Sorry, but I´m not really good at that. I barely managed the yellow eyebrows Flitwick made us conjure last week and even if I did, yellow eyebrows won´t do the trick."

"I´m afraid not," Snape agreed reluctantly. "And a spell-induced change of appearance can only be made by the wizard himself, so you´ll have to go as yourself."

Potter nodded. "But you´ll change?"

"As I´m not suicidal, I will," said Snape. "We´d better end this lesson and meet again tomorrow. Try to think of a way to escape an ambush. We need something you have mastered already. Raw power won´t help," he couldn´t help to sneer.

-x-

They met again the next evening. This time the Room provided them with two squashy armchairs in front of a roaring fireplace as there wouldn´t be any more duelling until they had their protective robes.

Snape sat in one of the chairs, ignoring the steaming teapot and the biscuit barrel on the coffee table between them. "Did you think of a way to escape?"

Potter showed less reserve and poured himself a cup of tea. "In fact I did. I mastered the animagus transformation some months ago. My form is small and quick, I guess I could flee in my animagus form." He added honey to his tea.

"Quick enough to outrun spells?" Snape asked doubtfully.

Instead of an answer Potter touched his index finger with his wand and transformed. A big black tomcat sat on the other chair and fixed Snape with its intense green eyes. Then, very suddenly it jumped. One moment the cat sat on the chair, then it was on the mantlepiece and another moment later it landed on the backrest of Snape´s armchair. With a last elegant jump it returned to Potter´s armchair and wand. An instant later Potter was stiring his tea again.

Snape lowered his eyes and poured himself a cup of tea to buy himself some time. "Impressive," he croaked at last. He took a sip and allowed himself to bask in the comforting warmth of the hot liquid for a minute. "Can you do it without a wand? You should as it´s a question of power." He rose his hand to stop Potter from answering. "Don´t tell me. Let´s make it a lesson."

Potter shrank back in his armchair. His knuckles turned white as he gripped his wand.

"Legilimens!" Snape shouted without further warning.

Potter´s mind was open like the Chamber of Secrets the day he had saved Ginny Weasley. Snape searched for the information he seeked at leisure, making sure he touched some humiliating memories during his quest.

"Very good," he smirked when he finally withdrew from the boy´s mind. "The transformation part, not the occlumency, obviously. Was that really a girl who beat you up or was it just a longhaired boy? Do muggle boys wear their hair long?"

Potter was pale and he shivered, like always after Snape had invaded his mind. "I´d like to see you, when you were seven and Eloise Fisher had a go at you," he spat defiantly.

Snape ignored the angry remark. "So in case we´re ambushed you´re going to transform and run."

"And you?"

"That´s none of your business," Snape took another mouthful of tea. "Of course you´ll have to leave your wand behind. I´ll try to bring it along. – So her name was Eloise?"

Potter pulled up his legs and hugged his knees with one arm. He reached for the biscuit barrel and peeked inside. Ignoring Snape, he produced a chocolate biscuit and nibbled at it, positioning the barrel safely between his knees and his chest.

Snape glared at the boy. It wasn´t that he wanted a biscuit, but the gesture of withholding him the pastries was of unbearable cheek. They sat, their eyes locked unblinkingly, for quite a while, trying to outstare each other. Potter continued stuffing biscuits into his mouth. At some point he let go of his legs in favour of hugging the biscuit barrel protectively.

At last Potter surrendered the barrel. Snape ignored the fact that it was empty by then, but sneered at the boy superiourly before he set the dish aside.

-x-

Saturday started with a brilliant sunrise, which Snape saw for a change as he waited for Potter to turn up beside the main door. He had used some disguising spells on himself and even his bathroom mirror had been content with the result. Snape thought he looked a bit like Lucius Malfoy, with his blond hair and grey eyes, but he hadn´t changed his shape as he needed to try on robes later. He also wore a different hairstyle. Short.

"Sir?"

Good. Potter didn´t recognise him. He had been a bit worried whether his nose was going to give it away. He had shrunk it a bit, but couldn´t bring himself to making it too small.

"At last," he growled at the boy.

They both wore plain robes, without a Hogwarts crest, Snape black and Potter donned a dark grey. They had agreed that it would be better to not be recognised as Hogwarts staff or students.

Potter gawked at his professor as they walked to the gates in silence. Now that was a masterful appliance of self-transformation spells. Was Snape a metamorphmagus?

Snape extended an arm as soon as they had passed the apparition border and Potter obediently stepped closer. The potions master gathered his charge closer and apparated them to London.

They materialised in a small park, which was used as an apparition point by shoppers frequently. There were plenty of bushes to protect the arriving witches and wizards from muggle eyes and it was only a short walk from the Leaky Cauldron.

Snape let go of the boy as soon as they arrived. Potter stepped back and took in every detail of the surroundings.

"Will we meet here, if something goes wrong?" the boy asked.

Snape nodded. "You can sit in a tree. That should be relatively safe. Don´t change back until I join you."

Potter looked up into the tree-tops as if searching for a comfortable place to sit.

"Let´s hope we won´t need that plan at all," Snape startled the boy out of his musings and left the bushes. He brushed some dry leaves from his robes as he stepped on the path. The boy followed close behind.

They had barely reached the edge of the park when Snape felt the tingle of magic. Crap! Crap! Crap! Several hooded figures wobbled into existance as concealment spells were dropped. Snape had his wand out in an instant and with a hint of pride he registered Potter having his ready with equal velocity.

"What a wonderful surprise, it´s Potter," drawled one of the masked men. Snape wondered why Lucius bothered with the item when his stream of nearly white hair gave him away anyway. The deatheaters closed in on them. Snape watched them from the corner of his eyes, but never let Lucius out of sight. He knew the blond from various activities in the service of their Lord. When Lucius bothered to go out on a raid, he insisted on the first shot at his prey.

Potter turned a little and Snape mirrored the movement to bring them back to back.

Lucius snickered. "You´re not thinking of fighting us? You´re outnumbered two to nine."

"Thank you for doing the counting for me, Malfoy," drawled Potter. "And don´t worry. Nine cowards hiding behind masks are nothing to two brave men."

The blond rose to the bait and removed his mask. He stared at them both maliciously. "May I point out to you, Potter, that neither is your companion brave, or we would have seen him before, nor are you a man. And now hand over your wand, boy, and you shall live until the Lord has decided about your fate."

Potter snorted and Snape couldn´t but admire his guts in the face of danger. "We both know, Malfoy, that none of you would life to see tomorrow if you dared touch what Voldemort considers his."

Lucius´ face contorted with rage. "How dare you speak his name, you filthy halfblood!" He threw a hex at them, but Potter was quick and cast a shield. The blond´s curse was the signal for the others to join the unequal fight.

Curses flew from both sides and Snape was able to injure one of their attackers, but soon it became clear that they were fighting a losing battle. All he could do was open a gap for Potter to escape. "Run now!" he screamed as he shot a series of hexes at what he recognized to be the weakest part of the ring of deatheaters. With relief he registered a black blur disappearing in the nearby bushes.

Snape gave Potter a minute to hide. Then he admitted defeat and fled himself.

-x-

The potions master stayed under the bushes for nearly three hours. He didn´t dare to go up into the trees to look for Potter in case the deatheaters were still around, although that was not very probable. After decades of serving the same Lord it was unlikely that Lucius would mistake his wand. No, if one thing was certain, it was the fact that the Dark Lord had been informed about Snape´s treason as quickly as possible.

There was no purpose in hiding any longer. It was best to get Potter and try to come up with a plan what to do. Snape slid out of his hiding place on soft paws and looked up into the tree-tops. Ah, there was the boy, lazily lounging in a fork. On first sight he was asleep, but his twitching tailtip gave him away.

Snape flexed his muscles and went up the trunk in a flawless motion, using his claws as climbing-irons. Cautiously he balanced towards Potter. The boy opened his eyes when Snape was only two feet away. First, they were narrow slits, but as he took in who was pawing nearer, they flew open, big and round.

"Meouw?" the big black cat sounded inquiring.

"Meouw," affirmed his smaller companion. Snape´s fur wasn´t as thick and shiny as Potter´s, but thin and shaggy though as black as the boy´s. His eyes were the colour of honey. The potions master sat carefully and then transformed. The branch bowed a bit when it had to support the weight of a grown man instead of a cat.

"I think the branch is strong enough, you can transform," said Snape. He held onto his airborn seat with both hands.

Potter obeyed. "Why didn´t you tell me you were a cat, too?" he asked eagerly.

"Tell you a secret? Knowing how abysmal you´re at occlumency I know better," spat the potions master, but his words lacked the usual sharp tone. He sighed. "I wasn´t able to save a wand," he informed the boy.

Potter blinked. "Will they recognise yours?"

Snape refrained from stating the obvious. "Unless you learned wandless magic in secret, Potter, we´re stuck," he went on in his evaluation of their situation. "For me, the animagus transformation is the only piece of wandless magic I´m capable of."

"No better luck over here," sighed Potter. "So what will we do now? Can we go to the Leaky Cauldron? Tom could inform Dumbledore."

Snape shook his head. "Foolish boy! They know we´re somewhere nearby and wandless. They will observe any spot where they suspect us to be able to call for help. The Leaky Cauldron, Grimmauld Place, the Ministry. Everything out of reach at the moment."

"So what will we do?" For the first time Snape heard something akin to fear in the boy´s voice.

"Walk."

"Walk? Where? Not Hogwarts! You want us to walk all the way up to Scottland? Did they hit you with a spell? It´d take us days!"

"Make it weeks, Potter. If we´re lucky, we won´t have to walk all way. The headmaster will look for us when we don´t return in the evening."

"So why don´t we wait here for him?"

"And risk that the Dark Lord comes looking first?"

Potter bit his bottom lip. "We´ll attract the muggles´ attention." He motioned at his robes.

"We´ll travel in cat form."

"Do you think that´s wise? Most muggles don´t fancy stray cats."

"We can´t help it," shrugged Snape, "we can´t stay here and we can´t travel openly in robes. So in catform it is."

Potter nodded although he didn´t look convinced. Snape was content that the boy was ready to follow his lead for the moment.

"One more point," said Snape, "we can´t risk anybody to find out who we are as long as we can´t do magic. So don´t ever mention my name as I won´t yours."

"But what am I to call you?" Potter asked curiously.

The boy was right. They couldn´t travel for weeks without ever adressing each other. So better use aliases. "You can use my middle name. It´s barely known, so it should be safe."

"Your middle name. It is ...?"

"Tobias."

"Tobias. Then let´s stick to middle names. You can call me James."

"I will not use your father´s name," Snape spat without second thought.

The boy looked hurt.

"It carries too many bad memories," Snape said softly. "Can I make it Jim? I never thought of him as Jim."

"I´d like that," beamed Potter. "But then I´ll call you Toby."

Snape stiffled a sigh. Better keep the boy content. "Toby it is."


	2. Chapter 2

"First of all we need to get out of this park. Going together might be risky."

"They know we´re two," Potter agreed, "so lets go each on our own and meet later. Where?"

Snape tried to get a better view of the surrounding buildings. "Can you see that church?" He pointed through a gap between the branches.

Potter craned his neck. "The one with the grey tower?"

"That´s the one. We´ll meet there. They have some bushes near the entrance." He could hardly believe he was asking Potter of all people to meet him in the shrubbery. "Be careful when you cross the street." It wouldn´t do to safe Potter from the Dark Lord to lose him under a lorry.

"Yes, Mum," Potter said cheekily. He transformed and slid down the tree.

Snape followed five minutes later. He stayed between the bushes stealthily as long as possible. There, beside the iron gates stood Valden McNair, watching out. From time to time the man´s hand slid into his coat pocket and he murmured under his breath. What was he doing?

The small black cat tried to see what the deatheater was trying to achieve, for one thing was clear to the potion master. McNair was reaching for his wand and he was using spells. For a while he was lost, but then he saw it. Didn´t those pigeons look sick? Snape´s tail whipped with amusement. McNair was cursing the birds. Literally.

Amusing as the man´s behaviour was, it didn´t take away the fact that there was a guard at the gate. How to go past him? How had Potter done it? Snape observed McNair even closer, half expecting him to have an unconscious Potter hidden under his coat. When he saw no trace of the boy, he decided he had to act. There was nothing to be gained by waiting.

Stealthily he tiptoed closer, his front paws bent, his head as low as possible, his tail proudly in the air, tip twitching. After a last moment of hesitation, Snape jumped, clawing at the pigeons as he passed them.

The birds flew up in a cloud of wings and feathers and, for a brief moment, they obstructed McNair´s sight. Snape used the opportunity and rushed past the swearing man. Fast as lightning he hid under a parking car. After catching his breath, he brought some distance between himself and the deatheater guard by slipping from car to car. At what the potions master considered a safe distance he crossed the street and trotted towards their meeting point.

Potter sat on the first stair and licked his front paw. Was the boy hurt? Snape tried to smell whether there was blood, but the boy withdrew his paw hastily from the other cat´s nose. Thanks Merlin, the boy was alright.

Snape turned and trotted to the back of the church. There was a small space, protected from curious eyes by a huge tree and several dustbins. Snape transformed. Seconds later Potter stood beside him.

"I take it you had no trouble?" Snape couldn´t help to ask.

"No trouble?" the boy snorted. "That idiot at the gates nearly got me when he was having a go at the pigeons. Bloody sadist, cursing birds and kittens."

"Kittens? Po... Jim, you´re hardly a kitten! You must be a sixteen pound beast."

Potter blushed. "Seventeen actually. Hermione weighed me. Ron and I were having a bet."

Snape hoped with all his soul the boy wasn´t going to reveal the details of that.

"Uhm, Toby, I don´t want to sound whining, but can we get something to eat? I missed breakfast today and it must be past noon," Potter changed topic.

Now that was a problem. "I intended to go to Gringott´s first," the potions master admitted. "At the moment my fortune is" – he rummaged in his pocket and produced some coins – "fifty-eight pence and three knuts. How much do you have?"

Potter blinked sheepishly. "It was Gringott´s for me, too. I have twenty pence."

"We can´t risk going to a shop anyway," Snape pointed out.

"But I´m hungry!"

Snape glared at the boy. "You´re a cat, for Merlin´s sake! If you´re hungry, catch a mouse!"

The boy turned green around the nose. "You can´t be serious! A mouse! And, don´t say it, you want me to eat it raw, fur and all! How disgusting is that!"

"If it´s either that or starve, you´ll find that mice aren´t so bad. At least better than frogs and rats."

Potter grimaced and made retching noises. "Let me guess, you tried it out. No wonder you look so unhealthy!"

"Excuse me," spat Snape, "but I do not look unhealthy."

"Your skin is sallow and you're pale like death himself," the boy still looked green.

"My skin is pale, because I spend most of my time in the dungeons, brewing," Snape pointed out defensively. "It has nothing to do with health. And were it not for the fact that I don´t want to burden myself with an injured child, I´d teach you manners right here!"

"So? You want to teach me manners, but you can´t even get me something to eat!"

Snape sighed and rummaged in his pocket. "Here, don´t eat it all at once. It´s all I have." He handed the boy a caramel.

"Thank you!" Potter´s face became a mask of joy as the sweet melted on his tongue. "Hang on, you didn´t poison that, did you?"

The potions master cocked an eyebrow. "We´d better travel by night," he pointed out. "The fewer people see us, the better. Let´s wait for darkness here. It´s a good hiding place."

"Apart from the fact that it stinks," Potter complained, pointing at the bins.

Snape didn´t grace him with an answer. Instead he transformed and lay down on a comfortable looking patch of grass. After a while Potter followed his lead and settled down beside him.

-x-

Snape woke the boy long after sunset. They changed into human form and set out for the northern edge of the city, avoiding the light, broad streets in favour for the dark side-streets. The boy didn´t complain, but it was clear that he was suffering. He slowed down little by little, until at last they were barely crawling along their path.

"Pull yourself together," Snape hissed through gritted teeth.

"I´m starving," whined the boy. "Can´t we at least get some water somewhere? Isn´t there a river or something?"

"Are you suicidal? Do you know what those muggles pour into their rivers? We can look out for a fountain."

It took them another hour to find one and when they did, Potter knelt by its edge and scooped up water with his hands eagerly. Snape stood and watched his back. When the boy had finished, Snape stooped to drink himself. After a whole day of need, the water tasted delicious.

"Are you rested?" asked the potions master. "We have to leave London. In the country we can find food in the fields or steal from gardens."

"Steal," Potter sounded uncomfortable.

"Steal," affirmed Snape. "I´m afraid we´re not in a position to be squeamish. Come, now. We can get something to eat once we´re out of the city."

This promise got Potter going. For the next hours they advanced nicely.

-x-

Merlin, did that city never end? Being a wizard, Snape had never been aware of the size of London. Five meters and fifty kilometers are about the same when you apparate, but not when you walk. Potters outburst of energy after their stop at the fountain had long seized and their progress was back to slow beyond measure. Snape couldn´t find it in him to accuse the boy. They were both hungry now and tired.

Worst of all was that they would be forced to hide once the sun was up. Which meant hours and hours without food or drink. It was pure stubbornness that kept the potions master from panicking.

There! The sun was already rising and they hadn´t come far enough to find gardens to nick something. Thanks Merlin, it was autumn and they should be able to get some fruit once they found a tree.

"Here, kitty, kitty, kitty!" The cry of a woman pierced the peace of the new day.

"Ah, breakfast!" Potter transformed, a silly grin on his face. Tail held high he followed the voice and hopped on a wall, which fenced a backyard.

Snape didn´t need telling twice and followed the boy. They sat on the wall and took in the scene. A batty old lady in a polyester dress, sporting curlers, was feeding a large group of cats. Even more of the felines were approaching from all directions. There was a bowl of milk and one of what seemed to be yesterday´s roast.

Potter whipped his tail and jumped into the yard. Boldly he approached the woman, who was just adding more milk to the bowl from a bottle.

"Who are you?" the lady asked curiously and eyed the black cat. "Are you new in the neighbourhood, beautiful?" She patted Potter´s head. The boy-cat rubbed against her legs and leaned into the caress for a bit, then he approached the milk and started lapping eagerly. The woman chuckled and added some more for him.

Encouraged by Potter´s kind reception, Snape left his spot on the wall and approached the woman, too.

"Uuuuh!" she cried. "Go away, ugly beast. Scabby creature!" She kicked at the smaller newcomer with her slipper-clad foot. Snape was barely able to avoid being hit on the head. He ducked and retreated. Hungrily he watched Potter and the other cats eating their fill. His belly grumbled, but there was nothing to be done. The woman guarded the bowls.

Potter looked at his teacher over his shoulder twice and continued stuffing himself with food hungrily. Snape couldn´t begrudge it to him. It had been nearly fourty hours since the boy had eaten. Not that it had been so much shorter for him, but it wouldn´t help if Potter went hungry, too. At least one of them was fed and up to the day´s challenges.

Suddenly Potter hissed and spat. The other cats and the woman jumped back. The huge black cat sank its teeth into a big chunk of meat and ran. Potter jolted past the potions master and jumped over the wall. Snape followed. Behind them the woman swore and called Potter names.

Potter didn´t stop until they had reached a hiding place behind some bins. There he let go of the meat – was this a scrap of roast pork? – and stepped back. Snape approached the proffered meal eagerly. For an instant yellow eyes met green, then Snape breakfasted.

They slept behind the bins all morning. As the suburb was quieter than the city itself, they dared leave their hiding place in daylight and headed further north in the afternoon. Travelling in catform turned out to be not so bad. They proceeded fairly quickly and they were also able to take shortcuts over walls and fences.

As night fell they retired for a rest in a park. Luckily there was a small fountain, so they could have a drink.

Potter transformed when it was late enough so they could be fairly sure that most muggles were at home. He stretched and flexed his fingers. "Ouch," he complained. "I´m not used to walking on my hands! Can we continue in human form for a while?"

"I think the risk is fairly low in the dark," agreed Snape. They walked for a while in silence, which the potions master broke finally. "That was very kind of you in the morning, Jim. Thank you."

For a moment the boy looked puzzled, then understanding dawned on his face. "Oh, that, it was nothing. You would have done the same."

They walked all night and by morning they reached a part of the suburbs where people had gardens. Snape nicked some apples for breakfast. They ate while walking. The older wizard would have prefered to sit for a while, but Potter, having grown up in a suburb, pointed out that two strangers were suspect enough when they walked by. If they lingered, somebody might call the police.

They ate as many apples as they could manage. It was necessary to change back into cats for the day for safety´s sake and they couldn´t keep the fruit in catform. When they both had had their fill, they reassumed their feline forms and went to look for a place to rest for a good part of the day.

Potter, familiar with suburban life, found an arbour to stay at. There were even some rags to rest on. Snape would have prefered one of them to stay awake to sit guard, but it was impossible. They were both exhausted and the arbour seemed fairly safe. Side by side the two cats fell asleep.

The potions master had no idea how long he had slept when he was woken roughly by a small hand grabbing him. He struggled for his freedom with all his strenght, which wasn´t much given that he was a rather small cat.

"Why do I get the shaggy one? It´s not cute!" complained a sweet little voice. Snape stopped his struggling for a moment and found himself hugged by a curly blonde girl of about seven.

"Because it´s smaller. You are smaller," a second girl of perhaps nine pointed out. She held Potter in an iron grip.

The boy looked miserable. Around his neck he wore a pink bow, whose twin held one of the girl´s pigtails. The bow, Snape noticed, sat pretty tight. Did Potter get enough air?

"Give me a bow," demanded the smaller girl.

"No," said what had to be her older sister, "I won´t give you my bow to put it on that ugly beast."

"My cat is not ugly," the little girl said tearful. "It may not be cute, but it will be when it has a bow."

"No!"

"Give me that bow or I´ll tell Muuuuuu...!" The volume of the girl´s voice increased threateningly with each word. She hadn´t reached the end of the sentence when her sister handed over the bow.

Snape resumed his struggles. He was not going to let this child strangle him with a devilish ribbon.

The girl held him with astonishing strenght. "Keep still," she urged, "or you won´t get any milk!"

Milk? Snape stopped struggling and let the child proceed. The girl sat him down and scrutinized her work. She pulled here and there until she was content.

"You wait here, Kitty," she said, "I´ll get your milk."

Snape glared up at Potter, who was still held by the older girl. Did the boy smirk? If he was wise, he didn´t. Any cat could have the bad luck to have a bow tied to its tail. Snape swished his tail threateningly. The bow rustled. Now Potter was smirking. Definitely.

The little girl returned with a bowl of milk shortly later. She sat it down beside the potions master, who started lapping hungrily. Potter struggled and was sat down to join the meal.

"Susan?" a woman called from the house. "Susan, Joanne! Come here immediately and clean up the mess you made in the kitchen!"

The girls looked at each other in shock. "Did you spill milk?" the older asked. The younger nodded. "I was in a hurry." – "We better go clean it up," said the older girl. "You wait here," she ordered the cats. The girls ran to the house.

The two wizards finished their milk at top speed. Then they fled over the fence.

They ran for nearly twenty minutes to bring a distance between themselves and those girls. When they finally halted Snape started to rub against a tree. He had to get off the ribbon. The potions master just hoped that Potter wouldn´t be stupid enough to transform while he had the bow on. It would strangle him.

Snape´s bow didn´t move a bit. Desperate, he sat down and tried to reach it with his teeth, but it was futile. At last Potter got the point and stepped closer. He bent down and took the ribbon between his teeth. The bigger cat tore with all its power, but the ribbon was fixed.

Snape started pacing. This was bad. They couldn´t stay cats all the time. How´d Dumbledore ever find them if they did? He had to get rid of that blasted bow! Potter had his around his neck, he couldn´t slip it off. No, he – Severus Snape – had to slip his bow off his tail. It couldn´t be so difficult. A tail had no lumps to hold the ribbon after all!

He swished his tail angrily.

Potter watched his teacher pace for a while. Then he stepped forward and nudged the other cat with his head. He had to try again.

Snape started and hissed.

Instinctively, Potter hissed back and bristled his hair to appear bigger.

Snape ducked and spat up from below.

Without a second thought the younger wizard struck with his front paw. A moment later the two cats were rolling on the grass, hissing and spitting, clawing and biting. They fought for several minutes, neither of them thinking, neither of them ready to submit. At last they broke apart at the same moment, exhausted.

Snape panted. He tried to evaluate the odds of him winning this fight while he tried to catch his breath. Potter was younger, bigger, heavier. Snape´s advantage was his experience, but what good was this against an opponent who was twice his weight? The younger wizard looked ready to jump again. Snape added Potter´s ability of quicker recovery to the equation.

Then he saw the pink ribbon lying in the grass. He turned to look at his tail. The bow was gone. Happy beyond measure, he transformed.

"Good idea to remove it like that, Jim," he grinned and bent to help the boy. Potter shrank back from Snape´s hand. "Don´t be ridiculous, let me help you!"

It turned out difficult to remove Potter´s bow. The knot was tight and Snape couldn´t get hold of the string properly. With a sigh he sat propped against the tree he had used to rub against before and lifted the cat onto his lap. It tried to get away, but Snape held it down. "Stop wriggling, foolish boy," he scolded. "You can´t transform before we get rid of that ribbon! Do you want to stay a cat?"

That did the trick. Potter didn´t move a bit while Snape worked on the knot. The potions master tried to wriggle the knot apart with his fingernails. Several times he was so absorbed in his task that Potter hissed with pain, but despite his protests the boy stayed still.

At last Snape succeeded. Potter flew from his lap in a blur and transformed beside his teacher. He grabbed the offending bow and held it up despisingly. Then he threw it aside.

"At least we are fed," Snape said weakly.

"At least," the boy echoed.

"I´d prefer to rest a bit longer, but as we´ve lost our hideout, we can as well go on," the potions master suggested. Without complaint Potter resumed his catform and they trotted further north.


	3. Chapter 3

It was another night of quiet walking. A while after midnight the gardens became bigger and the houses fewer and in the small hours they reached the open country. It was a nice change. They left the street to walk in the grass, which was pure bliss for their paws. When the first light of dawn showed itself, they stopped by a corn field and had a simple meal.

"I´m tired," said the boy with a trace of misery in his voice.

Snape looked around to find a place to sleep the day away. The best choice seemed to be a small wood in the distance. He pointed his companion there and the boy set out towards it with a curt nod.

The potions master picked some more cobs and followed.

When they reached the thicket, they found a patch of soft moss. Snape laid his corn beside it and then they transformed again. Sleeping on the forest floor was much more comfortable if you were a cat.

The potions master woke after noon and transformed. After another simple meal of corn he sat beside his sleeping companion and started a meditation exercise. He examined one area of his mind after the other, blocking each at the end of his contemplation with a thick occlumentic wall.

He left his memories of Albus Dumbledore to examine last. The headmaster had touched the potions master´s mind on countless occasions. Perhaps, after closing away everything else, he was able to reach out for his old mentor despite the long distance, give him a message that they were alive and where he had to go looking for them.

The experience was frustrating. Snape tried his best, but he got no sign that he came ever close to success. He tried to convey that they were in a safe place, that a patronus wouldn´t put them in danger.

"Are you alright, Toby?"

The boy´s voice cut through his mental peace and the walls he had errected crumbled.

Severus Snape opened his eyes, radiating fury. "Haven´t I tought anything? Never disturb a trance, idiot!"

The boy had the decency to look sorry. "I was worried. You looked, well, dead."

Snape tried not to explode. "Dead? I´d hardly sit upright if I was dead," he spat.

The boy shuffled his feet awkwardly. "Not necessarily. Do you know those photographs of dead grave robbers in the pyramides? They have been sitting for millenia although they are dead."

Snape stood. He had the advantage of being taller than the boy and he felt this was not the moment to not use it. "Do I look like a grave robber to you?" He towered over Potter.

"On second thought, no," the boy admitted. He hung his head. "I´m sorry I interrupted you."

"You better be. I was trying to contact..." Saying Dumbledore´s name would give away their identities. "...our whitebearded friend."

"Santa? We´re lost in the middle of nowhere and you try to reach Santa?" The boy´s eyes sparkled with fury. "Besides, I thought you had to write a letter."

Snape pinched the bridge of his nose. "The other whitebearded friend, idiot. And you have to write a letter."

"What other ... oh! Oh! This one! Did you reach him?"

"No, as I was interrupted." Snape shouted the last word.

"Sorry!" piped the boy.

The irate potions master took some slow breaths to calm down. When his burning desire to strangle Potter had reduced to a distant wish to slap the boy, he spoke again. "We have some corn left. Eat and then we´ll go on."

The boy sat obediently and took a cob. He offered another to Snape. The latter shook his head. "I ate when I woke up."

"But there´s too much for me. Why don´t you have another?"

"Don´t be foolish, Jim. We don´t know when we´ll find food again. Eat as much as you can."

The boy ate two cobs hungrily, but when he started the third, he slowed down considerably, though he tried to follow his teacher´s advice and eat as much as possible. "So," he said between two bites, "you tried to reach him. How does this work?"

"If you ever mastered occlumency, you would learn that the more often two minds touch the easier it becomes to establish a connection."

Potter´s eyes flew open. "You mean the more often you break through my defences the easier it becomes for you?"

"That´s the general idea, though in your case I have to ask myself which defences you´re talking about."

The boy hung his head, but tried to cover the movement by nibbling his cob of corn.

"Our friend has touched my mind on countless occasions," Snape went on ignoring the boy´s discomfort, "in theory it should be possible to convey a message even over a distance. The problem is that usually he is the active part in our connection."

"Is that why he trusts you?" the boy asked in a small voice, "because you let him see your mind?"

Snape nodded. Better let the boy believe it. "If I wasn´t loyal to him, he´d see it in my mind."

"But Vol ... the other friend doesn´t see it. How does the whitebearded one know that you´re not fooling him like the other."

"That´s between myself and him."

"I see." Potter layed the last cob aside. "Let´s go on. I can´t eat any more."

They transformed and started this night´s journey.

-x-

Snape decided to avoid any settlements. It was safer not to be seen at all as he wasn´t sure what strategy the Dark Lord would use to look for them. Was he going to send his deatheaters to the bigger towns and cities? Or would he guess that Severus prefered the countryside to travel and go for the small villages?

Muggles were more likely to remember them in the villages as fewer strangers came there, but it was easier to find food in the country.

It was difficult to decide, but at last the need to avoid his former comrades in service of the Dark Lord won out. No settlements at all it was. As long as they found food in the fields, things could be worse.

-x-

Things became much worse this very night. Sortly before dawn it started to rain. Not the kind sort of rain, no, but the sort of rain that makes you think that the sky decided to get rid of every droplet of moisture it can find, the sort of rain that comes with wind and lightning and thunder. And occasional bouts of hail.

Within minutes the two cats were soaked to the skin and Snape wished desperately they were near a barn, a garage or a house. He even felt he´d be able to miaow his way into a warm living room, miserable as he was.

He tried to look out for a forest or some bushes, anything to fend off the heavy rain, but all he could see was flat country.

Potter, however changed direction and headed slightly to the left with determination. Snape followed as he couldn´t be parted from his charge. In the light of another bolt he saw a lonely poplar between two fields.

Snape knew that it wasn´t wise to stand under a single tree in a thunderstorm without a wand, but at his present state of soak he couldn´t care less. Potter looked as miserable as Snape felt. His fluffy fur acted like a sponge and the boy was even wetter than his teacher.

It wasn´t really dry under the tree, but they found some shelter from the worst wind and rain behind its trunk. Potter started licking his fur and with some surprise the potions master noticed that the boy managed to remove some of the water that way. Grateful for any way to better their miserable situation, the older wizard followed the younger´s lead and for a while the two cats tended to their fur in companiable silence.

Once they had done what could be done, both cowered down, trying to curl up as small as possible. Snape found he was colder than ever before in his life. Going by Potter´s shivers, the boy didn´t feel any better. At last reason won and Snape snuggled closer to the other cat. First Potter stared at him with wide eyes, but then he leant into the offered bit of warmth. Being curled up together was indeed better. Nevertheless Snape found that he didn´t want to repeat the experience if he could help it.

The little comfort they had ended when – of course muggle physics chose this tree to prove itself – a bolt of lightning struck their poplar. Splinters of wood rained down on them. Snape threw himself over the boy protectively as soon as the first piece of wood hit him.

When the downpour of debris was over the potions master crawled off the boy and started to examine himself. His fur was full of splinters, but he found that he wasn´t injured. Potter on the other hand, miaowed and yowled pitiably.

Snape transformed quickly and, after making sure that the poplar wasn´t demaged so badly that it was going to collapse on them, examined the lamenting cat in the light of the burning tree. A long fragment of wood, not unlike a small spear, stuck in Potter´s hind leg.

"Don´t move, I´ll try to remove it," said Snape. "It will hurt, but it has to be done. Don´t transform unless I tell you." He could tell that the boy was trying to follow his orders, but the pain was too much. The boy left his leg still as long as he could, but in the end he always pulled it away before Snape could complete his task.

"Potter," Snape said sternly, but he couldn´t help a trace of pity in his voice, "you´re making things worse." He tried again, to no result but another desperate yowl of the injured cat.

The potions master sighed. The boy needed to calm down. Severus Snape, ex-deatheater and trademark git, closed his eyes and steeled himself for what had to be done.

Slowly he reached out for Potters head and started to gently rub his fur behind his ears. The cat leaned into the touch and after a while it started to purr. Snape continued his ministrations for a while, silently picturing ways of killing the boy if he ever told this story. When he found that the cat was relaxed enough, the potions master grabbed the splinter and pulled.

The cat spit and rammed its claws into Snape´s hand. The wizard yelped and withdrew his hand. Potter shrank back from him when he saw that he had hurt his teacher. Snape examined his left hand. Three long, deep scratches went from the wrist down to his knuckles. He glared at Potter. "You may transform now," the potions master informed the boy through gritted teeth.

An instant later the boy lay in the place where the frightened, hurt cat had been and he was in no better condition. He shivered badly. Snape wasn´t sure whether from cold, pain or exhaustion.

"Let me see your leg."

The boy pulled up his robes obediently for the potions master to see the wound on his thigh.

Snape swore. He had hoped that the injury would keep its size in transformation. That would reduce it to a minor hurt when Potter was in his human form. Unfortunately they weren´t that lucky. The wound was nearly twenty centimeters long and quite deep. It looked as if the boy had been hit by a lance.

"That´s bad," Snape stated the obvious.

"I don´t think I can walk." Potter sounded desperate and in pain.

"I´ll try to find some herbs to help you," promised the potions master.

"Don´t be ridiculous, this is not the time of the year for herbs," moaned the boy.

"I´m aware of that," replied the older wizard," but if we´re lucky I´ll find some left-overs."

The boy snorted, but didn´t talk back again.

-x-

In the morning Snape ordered Potter to remain under the tree, the fire had burned down and the rain had nearly stopped. In case someone came near him, the boy was to transform and hide.

The potions master went to search for herbs to use on the boy´s injury. He had not much hope to find anything, especially as there seemed to be no forest nearby and the country was covered in fields; monocultural fields which contained no wild plantlife at all but an occasional patch on the edge.

Snape hiked around their tree in a wide loop and after several exhausting hours he returned with nothing but some stems of camomile.

Potter sat propped against the poplar´s trunk, he looked pained.

"Here," Snape said and handed the boy some cobs of corn. Potter grimaced as the corn was no longer sweet but nearly dry and ready for the harvest. The potions master couldn´t begrudge him the gesture, but then they were lucky the corn hadn´t been brought in yet.

"I found only some camomile," Snape went on as the boy nibbled on a cob. "When you finished your meal you´d better transform and I´ll treat the wound while you´re in cat form. The wound´s smaller then and the camomile will be enough to cover all of it."

The boy nodded and obeyed. When he had transformed he lay on his side, presenting the injury to his teacher. Snape put the herbs on the wound and the cat hissed in pain, but it remained still.

The wound treated, Snape lifted the cat and sat it into the crook of his left arm as comfortably as possible and set out to continue their journey. It wouldn´t do to stay under the tree. The place was neither especially comfortable nor safe. Hopefully he´d be able to find a better place soon.

-x-

The barn was dusty and smelled of mouse droppings and there was also an owl living in its rafters, but it had a decent roof and there was also some hay.

The potions master sat his burden down on a soft bed of the dried grass and – after checking his companion´s wound – transformed.

He slept most of the night away, but was woken in the small hours by Potter moaning beside him. The boy had transformed to his human form. Snape couldn´t tell whether it had been done deliberately while he was asleep, all he could see was that Potter was barely conscious. His forehead was covered in sweat and the boy´s hair sticked to his face. His complexion was too red and from time to time he shivered violently.

Carefully Snape lifted the boy´s robes. The wound on his leg was angry and red. This was bad. Very bad.

-x-

The potions master went searching for a vessel to get some water. A bowl, a pot, a jug, anything. He had no medicine for the boy, not even herbs, all he could do for him was wash his feverish face and offer some coolness, if he only found a means of getting water to the boy.

A rusty bucket it was. Snape wasn´t too happy with it, as it had a hole some five centimeters above its bottom and the rust certainly wouldn´t help, but it was all he could find and so it had to be used. He went outside to collect some rain water – luckily the barn´s roof was a bit askew and a strong flood of water came down at one corner of the building.

When the bucket was full up to the hole, he went back inside and sat beside Potter. The boy was feverish, he moaned from time to time and opened his unfocused eyes wide, only to fall back into near unconsciousness seconds later. Snape soaked a lappet of his sleeve in the water and washed the boy´s forehead. The youth´s moans sounded relieved at those times or at least the potions master tried to convince himself of it. He had never felt so helpless before.

Illness hadn´t been a problem for him in decades. Whenever there was a medical problem, he went to his lab and brewed a potion. Usually the problem was solved within hours, brewing time included.

But here he had nothing at hand. No potions, not even the ingredients for a herbal tea. To be exact, he even lacked clear water, so he wouldn´t even dare wash the wound.

Snape didn´t leave the barn for two days but in order to refill the bucket. At these occasions he drank some of the rain water fresh from the roof, but he didn´t dare leave the boy long enough to find something to eat. He brought fresh water to Potter in his hands.

When Snape thought things couldn´t get more desperate, the rain stopped.

-x-

There wasn´t much water left. Snape looked at the delirious boy pityingly. Soon even the small comfort of cool water on the hot face was going to be taken from him. There was nothing for the potions master left to do but watch the boy die. It seemed audacious to hope Potter´d recover without medication, food or drink.

Snape was startled from his musings by the sound of the barn door being dragged open. He stood in one smooth motion, shielding the boy with his body from whoever was about to enter.

"Who are you?" A woman of perhaps fourty-five stood beside the door. She eyed the potions master suspiciously and the trace of fear in her face wasn´t missed by the spy.

"We were cought by the storm the day before yesterday," said Snape, stepping aside a bit, enough to show the boy, but not enough to let her see any details. "My companion was hurt. We mean no harm."

The woman took in Snape´s robes. "You are wizards," she whispered. The fear, which had shown on her face only briefly, was obvious in her voice.

Snape gasped. What did this muggle know about wizards? For a muggle she was. No witch the potions master knew would be able to dress as a muggle so perfectly, not even a muggle born. Even those adopted bad habits from their poorblood friends little by little as they grew older. Had this woman been a witch, Snape would have expected at least too gaudy colours or some weird accessories, but this woman was dressed perfectly mugglish.

The pale blue jacket and blue jeans went perfectly with her blonde hair. She wore old trainers and where her jacket was open, it showed a striped t-shirt.

"How do you know?"

"I´m a squib."

"A squib?" Excellent. If they were lucky, she had contact to the wizarding community. And being a squib, she wasn´t likely to work for the Dark Lord. Perhaps there was hope for Potter.

The boy moaned behind Snape. He sat bolt upright and cried "No! Leave them be!" before he collapsed back onto his bed of hay.

Snape eyed the squib cautiously, then he decided she posed no immediate danger and sat beside Potter. He washed the boy´s forehead carefully.

"What´s wrong with him?"

The woman had come closer while the potions master worked.

Without a word Snape pulled up Potter´s robes and showed the wound.

The woman withdrew. "That´s nasty. Why didn´t you heal it? Do you hate him that much?"

"We lost our wands. I can´t heal him. If I could, I would."

The woman bit her bottom lip. She seemed deep in thought. "Can you carry him to my car?" she asked when she´d come to a decision.

Snape hadn´t heard a car earlier. He must have been absorbed in tending to the boy.

"If it´s not too far."

"Right behind the barn."

The potions master lifted the boy and followed the woman outside. He had no idea where she was going to take them, but anything was better than to let Potter die in the barn.

-x-

"I don´t have a guestroom," said the woman as she led Snape into what seemed to be the living room of her small house. "Can you hold him a bit longer? I´ll pull out the sofa."

The potions master gave a curt nod and the woman prepared a bed for Potter.

"Make him comfortable, I´ll get some medicine."

Some minutes later, she returned with a bowl of clean water, cloths and bandages. After she had placed the items on the coffee table, she produced a tube and a box from her pockets.

"It´s not much," she said awkwardly.

"It´s more than we had before," said Snape. He started to clean the wound.

-x-

The squib returned with a tray of food just when the potions master finished bandaging Potter´s leg.

"Did you give him one of the febrifugal tablets?" she asked as she set the tray down.

"I had no time to read the package insert yet." Snape pulled the blanket over the boy.

"It´s this box," said the woman and held it out to Snape. "I usually take them when I have a bad cold. They´re rather harmless and I´m afraid the boy could do with something stronger, but that´s all I have."

"It will have to do." Snape helped the boy sit up. He slapped his cheeks gently. "You have to take a tablet, Jim."

"What?" The boy was barely aware he was spoken to, but when the potions master forced the medicine between his lips and held a glass of water to his mouth, he swallowed obediently.

-x-

"My parents and two younger brothers – they were magical – were killed by the Dark Lord when I was eleven," said the woman, who had introduced herself as Selene Hammersmith. "Three of my grandparents were muggles and my older brother, Nero, was going out with a muggle girl. I wasn´t at home, when it happened. Nero and his girlfriend had taken me to the cinema. When I didn´t get a Hogwarts letter – not that anybody was surprised, they had accepted what I was earlier – my family tried to prepare me for muggle life."

"When we came back, we found that green skull hovering over the house. Nero didn´t let me go inside, but he told me what he found some years later. We went to the muggle world to hide from the Evil. It was easy for me, but hard for Nero. He´d graduated only one year before and not to use magic was torture for him."

Snape nodded. He understood that very well. He had been without a wand for barely a week, but it felt like ages and the wish to do magic became stronger and stronger.

"In the end he gave in to temptation. He was killed in ´81. Since then I´ve had no connection to the magical world. I don´t mind as it means that I´m safe. – So where are your wands?"

The potions master wondered how much he should tell Selene.

"The wizard who killed your family was defeated in late ´81," he started cautiously, "but he came back two years ago. We were ambushed, but escaped. They got our wands though."

"So you´re fleeing from Him?" Selene sounded fearful.

"We are, but as we can´t use magic, he doesn´t know where we went. We´ll leave as soon as Jim is a bit better, if you´ll keep us that long. If not I only ask you for some medicine. We have no intention of putting you in danger or frightening you."

"Are you sure he can´t find you?" Selene laddled more soup into Snape´s bowl.

The potions master gave an affirmative nod, then leaned over to check on Potter. The moaning and tossing had become less over the last quarter hour. He touched the boy´s forehead gently. "It seems the fever´s going down," he said.

"When he wakes up, you can try to give him some soup," said the woman. "When did he eat last?"

"Two days ago. I couldn´t leave him to get something when he had fever."

-x-

Selene returned from the supermarket with a bag of herbal teas late that afternoon.

Snape shooed her out of the kitchen and went over the ingredients he had. There were some fresh vegetables, carrots and parsley and potatoes. The potions master could have kicked himself when the squib told him about the patches behind the barn. They´d have had plenty of fresh food, had he only cared to walk around their makeshift quarters in a full circle once. It had been the vegetables, why Selene had found them. She ran into them on her way to tend to her carrots.

There were also some herbs. Camomile and mint from teabags and marjolaine, cloves and others, which had been sold as spices.

The potions master tried to think of a mixture that´d help the boy, could be prepared without magic and for which he had all ingredients. Grudgingly, he set for a draught, which was usually prepared with five-year-olds. Actually the recipe was to be found in "The Junior Potions Master – Brewing With Pre-Schoolers" by Lenus Jolly. Snape didn´t like his alias very much, but Dumbledore was right. Nobody, who had attended Hogwarts in the last sixteen years would buy a children´s book by Severus Snape. Besides it wouldn´t be good for his reputation among deatheaters. With a pang of guilt Snape remembered that this one had been entirely ruined during the last week. Now he was completely useless as a spy.

"What is this?" Selene asked curiously, when he returned to the living room with a cup for the boy. "It smells good."

"A very mild healing draught," explained the potions master as he helped Potter sit up. The boy drank obediently when Snape held the cup to his lips. He didn´t even smell the brew before he drank. Snape, the spy, thought he´d have to talk to the boy about trust in the near future. It wouldn´t do to have The-Boy-Who-Lived poisoned.

-x-

After two relatively comfortable days in Selene´s living room, they left. Potter´s leg wasn´t entirely healed, but it was no longer inflamed and the boy was able to walk and transform. Snape had a packet of muggle tablets and a bottle of his ´draught´ in his pocket along with a small bag which he hoped to be able to carry in cat form.

Selene was glad of their departure. Although the woman had tried hard to hide her fear, it was clear that she felt anxious about hiding them from the person, who had killed her whole family.

Potter thanked her effusively, even hugged her, at their departure.

"This was a very nice woman," the boy said as they walked through the village, an activity the potions master´d rather have avoided, but it couldn´t be helped. It was better Selene didn´t know about their animagus forms.

"Indeed," Snape agreed.

"It was nice to be properly fed."

"Yes."

"Thank you for treating my leg."

"Mmh."

"You did a good job. It nearly doesn´t hurt at all."

"Mmh."

"So, I guess, you saved my life again."

"Potter," Snape sighed.

The boy cleared his throat and looked at Snape with a raised eyebrow.

The potions master sighed again. "Jim," he corrected his slip of tongue, "drop it. You´d have done the same for me."

The boy grinned cheekily. "If you really think I´d be able to whip up a healing draught in a muggle kitchen, you should talk to my potions teacher."

Snape couldn´t help a grin. "Jim, in your case, it doesn´t make any difference if you´re in a muggle kitchen or a dungeon lab when it comes to brewing."

The boy fake pouted. "You´re lucky that I´m so grateful or I wouldn´t have you talk about me like that."

"I´d like to see you stop me."

When they had passed the last houses, they transformed and hiked farther north in their cat form.


	4. Chapter 4

Snape decided that it wouldn´t help to overexert the boy, so he kept their stages easy. As the youth felt better, he refused to be carried, so this wasn´t longer an option.

The bad thing about the whole matter was that it lenghtened their journey. Winter was nearing. Soon it would be even more difficult to feed them both. The peasants were bringing the harvest to a close, people picked their apples and pears. Soon they were going to be forced to find food in the villages.

The potions master hated the thought. Doing it in human form was dangerous as the Dark Lord could get word of their whereabouts and trying in cat form was going to be humiliating for the older wizard.

The boy was a gorgeous cat. He´d – undoubtably – have no trouble to miaow his way into a heart and a house, but Snape himself was a rather shabby beast. Who in their right mind was going to feed him? The boy had stolen a chunk of meat for Snape once, but the potions master´d rather not repeat the experience. Living of the scraps of Potter´s meal had been humiliating beyond measure. He´d have refused hadn´t it been for his hunger.

-x-

The third week away from home blessed them with rather warm and dry autumn days. Snape insisted they stay away from settlements and led the way through fields and woods. The younger wizard followed obedienty, though not thrilled. Harry Potter, Snape realised, liked to be in company. The boy missed the opportunity to talk to people and be it only for a brief ´hello´.

They travelled in cat form most of the time, but they transformed when it came to meals. Nature offered mainly edible plants and those were not desirable in cat form. Neither wizard wanted to think of traditional cat meals. Mice were out of question. It wasn´t so much that he hadn´t done it before – he had while in the service of the Dark Lord, back then before Dumbledore took him in – but he had no desire whatsoever to do it again.

"You know," said the boy as they were collecting the last blackberries of the year in a small forest, "I was thinking about something."

"Pray tell." Snape was a bit fearful what a hungry, bored Harry Potter would come up with.

The boy looked a bit hurt by Snape´s sarcasm. He must feel even worse than the potions master had thought, for usually the boy refused to show that his teacher´s cruel tongue had any effect on him. "Yes, I actually DO think from time to time," the boy snapped, "I thought, why don´t we go to the villages? Volde... He can hardly survey all the backwaters. We could find work. And get decent meals."

"Oh, and how are you going to explain to the muggles why you´re wearing a dress?"

Potter bit his bottom lip. "We could get ourselves muggle clothes."

"How?"

"Borrow?"

"You mean steal."

"It would look like stealing first," the boy admitted, "but when we´re back, I could pay for what we take."

Snape snorted. "Knock, knock, knock, who´s there? – Me, the guy who purchased a shirt from your clothesline three months ago. – You´ve got humour, Potter."

The boy looked taken aback. "Three months? Do you really think it will be that long?"

The potions master nodded curtly. "Not necessarily, but it´s quite possible. If we don´t find a magical means of travelling by chance, we´re likely to need several months. Unless Dumbledore comes to find us before."

"But it´s Oktober!" cried the boy. "It will soon be snowing. I don´t know about you, but I´m not wearing anything but my trunks under my robes."

"I´m aware of that," sighed Snape, "and I didn´t go for trousers for our trip either. I thought there was no point in having to take them off to try on clothes..."

"We´re going to freeze unless you know how to do a warming charm wandlessly, I for one don´t." Potter was upset. "We´ll need to get something to wear anyway!"

Snape bought some time by picking some more blackberries and chewing on them leisurely. "As much as I hate to admit it, you´re right Jim."

"So when are we going?"

"Tonight. People won´t leave their laundry outside once the weather is really bad."

-x-

"Explain it again, Jim." The potions master sat propped against the wall of a toolshed. "Why would anybody buy a machine when all you have to do is throw your laundry over a line and wait?"

"They´re called tumble dryers," the boy repeated patiently. "And muggles like them, because you can use them no matter how the weather is and it´s quick. That, and the neighbours won´t see your unmentionables."

"Bad for us." The potions master said tiredly.

"Not everybody has them. We just have to keep looking."

"We have been looking – and risking discovery – for nearly two hours."

"Perhaps in the next village."

-x-

"I look like a clown! – Don´t you dare agree!" The potions master looked even more disgruntled than usually.

They were back to the woods. Potter wore muggle jeans and a blue sweater. There was a weird muggle comic on the sweater – some sort of robot, Snape thought, but he wasn´t an expert – but it wasn´t too bad. At least not next to what Snape wore.

The potions master sported a pair of muggle trousers in a greenish-brownish camouflage pattern and a brown sweater with another comic on it. Only this one showed a comic girl with an overly big head and a too short dress, which may have been red once, but had faded to pink after too many washings. ´Betty Boop´, gaudy once red, now pink letters said.

"It was the only garment that would fit you, Toby," said the boy. "It´s not my fault that the only muggles without a dryer we found have a bad taste in clothing."

"I didn´t say it was your fault."

The boy snorted. "At least it looks warm. You won´t freeze."

"It´s ridiculous. Perhaps freezing is not so bad an alternative."

"You can wear your robes as a coat over it."

The potions master snorted. He closed his robes tightly around his frame and transformed to sleep the day away as a cat.

-x-

Snape was woken by angry hissing and spitting. What he saw made his blood freeze. Harry Potter, only hope of the wizarding world, stood eye to eye with a polecat, a very angry polecat that was. The boy – in his catform – retreated step by step. His tail twitched nervously, his hair was bristled and his ears lay flat on his head.

The polecat ducked, ready to jump.

With an angry hiss Snape stood beside his charge. He didn´t get the desired effect however, but made the polecat jump at the boy. Snape threw himself in harm´s way without a second thought. Soon he and the polecat were rolling hissing and spitting on the forest floor. The animal made good use of its teeth, but so did the potions master.

Snape was just thinking that he was gaining an advantage over his opponent when he was grabbed around his middle and pulled out of the fight. He struggled, but stopped when he heard Potter say "Stop that or I´ll drop you," in a soothing voice. Amazed, he watched the boy kick at the polecat and the latter go flying with a last angry squeak.

Potter stroked Snape´s back twice before setting him down. The potions master transformed immediately. "Can´t you even stay out of trouble for five minutes? What did you do this time?"

"No, I´m not hurt, thanks for asking," the boy snapped back. "What I did is quite simple. I existed. I woke when that stinking ferret was biting my tailtip."

Snape half expected the boy to turn around and waggle his tail to demonstrate where the beast had attacked him, but of course he didn´t. Potter had no tail in his human form.

"Anyway, thanks for saving me again," the boy continued. "I was disorientated when I woke or I´d have thought of transforming earlier. Are you hurt?"

The potions master took his time looking out for pain in his consciousness, but there was none. "It seems not."

The boy exhaled in relief. Snape hadn´t noticed him hold his breath. "I´m glad about that," the boy admitted. "You saved my hide so often, I´d hate the thought you got hurt in return." He blushed.

Snape ignored the boy´s discomfort and looked up at the patch of sky visible between the tree tops. "Dawn will come soon, we can as well start today´s stage."

"You know, now we have muggle clothes we should really think about finding work. I´d like a decent meal for once."

They hiked in human form for a while, but when the next village came into sight, Snape transformed and the boy followed his lead. Working for muggles was out of question as long as they could find food elsewhere.

-x-

The prospect of spending a good part of winter hiking north seemed to motivate the boy to double his efforts. He walked faster than before and refused to rest until the sun was high in the sky the next day.

In fact the boy´d have continued still, but Snape just sat stubbornly when they passed another barn. At last the boy gave in and they found themselves a soft spot in the hay for the day. Before they went to sleep, they had a meal of carrots and tomatoes. Snape had learned his lesson from Selene and never failed to walk around a barn when they reached one. Many muggles, it turned out, had small vegetable patches by their barns.

"I wish it could be something warm for once," sighed the boy as he nibbled his fifth carrot. "Though I´d not say no to a nice roast either."

"Stop talking about things that are out of reach for the moment." Snape snapped and bit into a tomato.

"I´ve been thinking," said the boy.

"Again?" This time the potions master didn´t even try to hide his sarcasm, but the boy seemed to feel better as he didn´t react to the tone at all.

"Perhaps we don´t have to go all way to Hogwarts. Where do the Order members live? Isn´t there any of their homes nearby? Or at least closer than Hogwarts?"

"Probably," said the potions master, "but as we´re at war, neither of the order members knows about the others´ homes unless they´re close friends and have been for a long time. I, working as a spy, haven´t been told about any, both by Dumbledore´s order and my wish. It´s possible we walked past several homes of order members. If we did, I wouldn´t know."

"I don´t know about any either," mumbled the boy. "Ron´s house is the only wizarding home I´ve ever been to apart from Grimmauld Place. And I have no idea where that is exactly."

The potions master snorted.

"So that isn´t an option either." The boy sounded defeated.

"I thought of it, too," Snape said softly. Why was he comforting Harry Potter of all people? "I didn´t mention it as the idea was entirely useless."

The boy sighed.

"We´ll return home safely," Snape said in what he hoped was a soothing voice. "It may take a little longer, but we will."

Potter smiled weakly. Then he transformed and curled in a ball.

-x-

The pleasant autumn weather turned into early winter storms without much warning. One day the country glowed golden in the sunlight and the next morning it was covered in frost and the first snow.

The potions master and his charge had retired to another barn in the small hours. There was no trace of snow then and so Snape was taken by surprise when he opened the barn door and stepped outside to look for vegetables behind the building.

"Crap!" he swore when he saw the snow-covered landscape. He stumbled to where he hoped to find some vegetables. The tomato plants looked miserable under their snowy caps, but at least they still bore fruits. The potions master picked several frozen tomatoes. He tried to pull up some carrots, but had to give up. The frozen ground wouldn´t let him get any.

"Did I hear you shouting?" Potter asked when his teacher reentered the barn. He sat half hidden behind a heap of hay.

"You can come out, there´s no danger," Snape said matter-of-factly. "It snowed last night." He placed the tomatoes on the floor.

The boy turned up his nose. "I swear, I won´t touch a tomato for a year when we return home."

"You´d rather be grateful we have those," Snape scolded. He tried to look cheerful as he bit into one of the red fruits, but Potter´s amused grin told him that he failed miserably.

-x-

There was no point in wasting time. The weather wasn´t going to improve. So Snape transformed when he had finished his meal and beside him the boy followed his lead. Side by side they left their shelter and started further north.

"You can´t be serious," Potter complained five minutes later.

The potions master started. The boy had transformed in broad daylight. What if he had been seen?

After looking out for onwatchers and not finding any, the older wizard resumed his human form too.

"What are you talking about?"

"This!" Potter gestured at the snow at large. "My paws are frozen!"

"Jim," Snape hissed through gritted teeth, "millions of cats all over the world run through snow every day. And it doesn´t hurt them a bit!"

"Well," snapped the boy, "perhaps it´s because I´m not really a cat. I´m a boy, who´s pretending to be a cat. Can you see the difference?"

Snape felt his temper rising. "For your information, JIM, I´m not a born feline either and I can walk perfectly well through the snow. My PAWS are not frozen. Perhaps it´s not that you´re pretending, but pampered."

"What?" Potter stood his ground. "Whom do you call pampered? Haven´t I followed you over the past three weeks without a word of complaint? I´ve been living of tomatoes and corn without ever voicing my disgust and don´t you dare tell me it isn´t disgusting! I saw your face back there when you had breakfast!"

The potions master pinched the bridge of his nose. "Jim," he said with a calm he didn´t feel, "the circumstances of this journey are beyond our influence. Things won´t get better by complaining and quarrelling."

"Can´t we just stay in human form?" The boy asked. "At least as long as we are in the open country?"

"I guess it wouldn´t hurt," replied Snape as he turned and marched on.

The boy followed quietly.

They walked all day. There was no lunch as the snow covered what little they would have picked up from the fields so far.

"What will we eat?" asked the boy as the sun sank towards the horizon. "I don´t mean to complain, but it won´t help if we are too weak to walk."

"You´re right. I guess we´ll have to try and get food from the muggles as the snow prevents us from finding anything ourselves. Can you miaow pitiably?"

"I guess I can manage," grinned the boy. "Shall I put on my best kitty eyes?"

The potions master snorted and proceeded towards the village. When he thought that transforming any closer to the settlement would be unsafe, he resumed his cat form and soon the boy was tripping in his furry self beside Snape. Every few steps he stopped and shook his paws.

-x-

They found shelter in a farm-house. The farmer´s wife, a plump, but friendly elderly woman opened her door for them after Potter had pulled all the stops, including miaowing, yowling, looking miserable, kicking his heels – Snape hoped he wasn´t going to rub his paws to emphasise he felt cold for it would be most un-cattish – and rubbing against the woman´s legs.

At last they found themselves in a warm and cosy kitchen with a bowl of milk in front of them. When they had lapped up the last drops the woman sat beside the tiled stove and pulled Potter onto her lap. She stroked his fur and scratched his ears.

Snape jumped onto the bench beside her. He had to stay close to the boy to be able to protect him and that the stove was warm didn´t hurt.

"You are friends, aren´t you?" the woman said softly and tickled the potions master´s ears.

Snape had to use all his willpower not to bite her. Beside him Potter purred like a little engine. Reluctantly Snape had to admit that the boy was the better cat.

"Don´t tell me you took in some strays again!" The farmer, a tall, slender man, entered the kitchen, wiping his hands on a towel. He looked at the two cats angrily.

The potions master stood and hissed, arching his back. Potter hopped from the woman´s lap elegantly and approached the man. He sat beside him and rubbed his head against the man´s leg only to be kicked aside lightly.

"Stop that!" grumbled the man. "Fluffiness won´t buy you anything here. This one," he approached Snape and lifted him by the neck-fold of his skin, "seems to be vicious. Maybe he can help us get rid of the mice in the stable. – What´s for dinner?" He sat the potions master back down on the bench and took a seat by the table.

"Shepherd´s pie, dear," said the woman and placed a plate in front of her husband.

The food smelled great. Unfortunately the farmer wasn´t ready to share and all the two wizards got was a watering mouth.

Potter tried to move the farmer by miaowing, but Snape wasn´t going to join the humiliating act. He sat there and glared daggers at the farmer while the man ate. This, it turned out, was the right course of action.

"You´re a tough one," the farmer said to Snape, the cat, when he stood after his meal. "You´ll work for your keep, won´t you?" He grabbed the potions master and his student around their waists and carried them outside to the stable. "We have an infestion of mice in here. Catch them and you will be fed." The farmer sat the two cats on the floor.

Snape stepped away from the man cautiously. He pricked up his ears. There, a faint rustling told him where to find the mice. He ducked and slid closer. As soon as he saw the mouse, he jumped.

The rodent squeaked, but it was defenceless against the potions master´s claws. Proud of his quick success, Severus Snape, potions master at Hogwarts school for witchcraft and wizardry, took the mouse by its tail and carried it over to the farmer. He dropped it at the man´s feet and looked up.

"Well done," cried the man, "you´re a clever one!"

All the while Potter had sat quietly beside the man and watched.

-x-

The farmer left the two cats in the stable with a soft "I´ll get your reward."

Snape put the waiting time to good use by catching another mouse.

"Look at you!" cried the muggle when he returned. "Good cat!" He set a bowl down in front of the potions master. It contained some scraps of shepherd´s pie and Snape started wolfing it down hungrily.

"Not you, lazy!" scolded the farmer when Potter approached the food. He shoved the boy aside with his foot.

Snape miaowed. How was he to communicate to the man that he was willing to share with his companion?

Potter understood and approached again, only to be pushed aside again.

Snape stalked over to the other cat and rubbed his head against it. Then he went back to the food, the boy in tow.

The muggle wouldn´t have it. "You´re a good one, but I won´t feed a useless cat. He wants food, he has to earn his keep."

Potter retreated to a corner and watched the potions master finish his meal.

-x-

Snape sat on the window sill and watched the house. When the lights went out and stayed out for half an hour he was sure that the farmer and his wife had gone to bed, so he dared to transform.

"I´m sorry about the food," he said softly when the boy had followed his lead. "Why didn´t you catch a mouse? He´d have fed you, too, or at least let me share mine."

"Catch a mouse?" the boy snorted. "How would I know how to do that? How do YOU know?"

"Don´t be stupid, Po... Jim. It´s easy. You find the mouse, you creep up, you jump. No big deal."

Potter sighed. "You make it sound easy."

"I can show you." Again, images of him killing Potter, if he told about their journey, popped up in Snape´s mind. "If you manage to learn, we can stay for some days and get propperly fed."

"That sounds enticing. Was the pie as good as it smelled?" The boy´s stomach rumbled.

"It was. Now sleep. We´ll start your lessons in the morning."

They retransformed and curled up on a patch of straw for the night.

The potions master was woken by his companion poking him in the side with a front paw. He hissed. The boy retreated, but looked at the window reproachfully. The first lights of dawn bathed the sky in a greyish red. Snape had to remind himself that the boy hadn´t shared the delicious meal he´d had the last evening. Probably the child was hungry, so his eagerness to learn was understandable. The farmer had made it perfectly clear what was required to get food.

Snape signalled the boy to stay where he was and approached the corner where he had spotted the mice in the evening. He ducked. Something touched his shoulder. With a start Snape turned, only to find himself nose to nose with the other cat. Potter tried to see what Snape was doing, but of course his – clumsy – approach had warned the rodents.

The smaller cat set his teeth and retreated. The boy followed closely. When Snape sat and faced his companion, the boy sat too and looked at him questioningly. They needed some kind of sign language, the potions master decided.

"When I whip my tail twice, you´re to follow. If I whip it only once, you´re to stay behind," he said, glaring at the boy.

"But I can´t see when I stay behind," the boy complained.

"If you scare away the mice, there´s nothing to be seen," the potions master grumbled.

"Why is it me who scares them away?"

"Because we saw yesterday that I´m perfectly capable of stealthy movement."

"Oh."

"So, stay here and watch. Then you can try." Snape didn´t wait for the boy to acknowledge, but transformed back and approached the corner again. Luckily mice were stupid. They´d left their hideouts as soon as the cats had withdrawn.

The potions master ducked and crawled back to his victims. They had been warned, so he had to be extra careful. He waited until one of the furry little beasts came near enough to be easy prey. Then he jumped and covered the unlucky mouse with his paws, claws extended. Immediately after hitting the creature, he bit it. Seconds later he returned to Potter with a mouse in his mouth and a smug look on his face.

Potter returned the gaze with awe before he followed his teacher´s lead. He ducked, he crawled, he slithered towards the mice and – what was the boy doing?

Snape was sure he was going to have nightmares. The big fluffy tomcat was wiggling its behind before jumping! Of course all mice were gone by the time the boy actually attacked.

"What is this supposed to be good for?" Snape snapped after spitting out the mouse. He had transformed so quickly and without giving it a thought that he had it still between his lips when he resumed human form. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Disgusting! "Stop showing off! Who do you think you´ll impress? The farmer´s wife won´t watch you catch mice and she already thinks you´re cute."

The big cat hung its head.

With a quick "Try again!" the potions master resumed catform.

The boy obeyed.

Snape could see how much the boy was trying, but his backside wouldn´t remain still. The potions master tiptoed nearer and smacked the boy´s behind with his front paw.

Potter jumped – and landed on a mouse. Rely on the Golden Boy to succeed by sheer luck.

When the farmer came to the stable a while later, he found both cats waiting for him with a mouse. Breakfast was milk, some sausage-ends and a bit of shepherd´s pie. Snape left the latter to the boy as he hadn´t gotten any in the evening.

-x-

They stayed at the farm for three days. The farmer´s wife spoiled them, especially Potter, whenever her husband wouldn´t look. The boy was slowly getting a hang of how to chatch mice. He still wiggled his behind before jumping, but he learned how to do it without alerting his prey.

Snape´s suspicions proved correct. He had nightmares. In them, Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Was-Supposed-To-Kill-The-Dark-Lord, wiggled his backside in the Final Battle while aiming at the Dark Lord. Why hadn´t he noticed this whim during duelling lessons?

They both regretted leaving their stable, but they had to. Not only in order to return home, but also because the weather improved enough to melt away the snow. Snape wasn´t going to waste time when they could come closer to home relatively comfortably.

The boy followed him away from the farm without complaint. They left the village and, as soon as they had put some distance between themselves and the muggles, transformed. Walking on two feet was pure bliss after three days in catform.

"I couldn´t but notice that you developed a habit of hesitating before attack."

"What?" The boy sounded taken aback.

"Uhm, you keep wiggling your backside."

"Why didn´t you tell me?"

The potions master´s jaw dropped. "Why didn´t I tell you? Why do you think I smacked your buttocks these last three days?"

There was a short silence. "To encourage me to jump?"

The potions master kept his eyes fixed to the ground. If he looked up and the boy blushed, he´d have to kill him there and then.

"Uhm, Toby, I´m not doing this during duels, am I? You would have told me?"

"I never noticed it before."

"Good. It would be dangerous when I face Vol... you know."

"You have to be more careful with his name," Snape scolded. "I told you he can locate you when you speak his name."

"I´m trying."

"Trying may not be good enough."

They walked all night in silence. When morning dawned, they found themselves a dry spot under some bushes and curled up to sleep the day away.


	5. Chapter 5

The fates granted them a whole week without snow. The potions master thought that they were proceeding nicely. Slowly, but steadily. Potter, for once, didn´t complain about the food. They found some more edible plants in the fields, once they even tried sugar-beets. The first bite made it clear why this plant wasn´t used in any cuisine Snape had ever heard of.

After a week, winter returned with storms and snow. This time, there wasn´t a snow cover of some centimeters. No, the snow was deeper than the two wizards were high in their catform. After a fruitless attempt to travel on in catform, they had to admit defeat and resume their human frames.

Snape hated the thought of travelling as a muggle. They had no money and no decent winter clothes. Their robes hardly qualified as coats and the sweaters they had ´borrowed´ were ridiculous. At least his was. He sneered down at his Betty-Boop-clad chest.

"It could be worse," Potter said softly. "It could be Barbie."

The potions master had no idea what the boy was talking about, but one look in his face told him that he didn´t want to know.

As they had to fight their way through the snow, travelling by night didn´t seem wise any longer. Potter, having grown up with muggles, also pointed out that they would be taken into a house more likely, if they showed up in the evening. So travelling by day it was.

They hiked in human form as far as they could and when dawn fell, they transformed hidden from muggle eyes and went looking for a good soul to accept them into the house for the night.

Potter, it turned out, knew a great deal about acting cute and softening people´s hearts. The potions master thought it strange as he had never taken the boy for vain, but he didn´t complain as long as the boy´s behaviour bought him a bowl of milk and a warm place for the night.

They spent the first night at an old lady´s, who owned three cats herself. She tried to feed them cat food from tins, but apart from that, the night was not bad.

The second evening Potter miaowed their way into a house with a child. The girl – she had to be twelve or thirteen – fed them pieces of sausage and cheese from the table despite her mother´s protests. After the meal, the child fetched a ball of wool and sat on the carpet in front of the fireplace. Snape was taken aback. What was this about?

Potter, on the other hand, wandered around the girl, purring and occasionally rubbing against her. Snape took it that the boy knew what was to come.

The girl held the wool up and dangled a thread in front of the boy´s nose. Potter stopped in his track and observed the bait. Snape closed his eyes. She couldn´t be serious.

Potter whiped his tail. He stood, stooped, and lay back his ears. Then he pawed at the thread. The girl giggled and rose the wool a bit higher above Potter´s head. There! Potter wiggled his behind before he jumped.

"Mum!" the girl cried happily. "Come and look! Isn´t he cute?"

Potter waited until ´Mum´ had joined them before he repeated his performance. This time he even added a funny roll when he landed. He scrambled to his feet and looked around as if dazzled. ´Mum´ joined her daughter´s laughter.

Two funny jumps (and backside wiggles) later, Potter got a reward of a small piece of roast beef. The boy strolled around the muggles, purring.

"What about the other one?" asked ´Mum´.

The girl grinned and dangled the wool in front of the potions master. Snape hit the wool with his paw lazily. The girl raised the wool a bit. It was out of reach now. "Come, kitty, jump!" the girl cried happily. Snape gave her a glare that would have given any Hogwarts student a heart-attack, but this muggle was unimpressed. "Come, kitty, don´t be a bore!"

Potter approached his teacher carefully. He sat beside him and nudged him with his shoulder. Then the boy wiggled his backside and jumped.

The girl withdrew the wool at the last moment, but gave Potter more roast beef. The boy chewed on it and glared at the potions master challengingly.

The potions master stiffled a sigh. Roast beef was his favourite. Reluctantly he stood when the girl held her wool up again. Carefully he moved his hips. Yes, it worked nicely. He jumped. While he chewed his slice of roast beef, he tried to remember how many times Potter had deserved death within the past month.

-x-

Some nights went not so well. Neither of the two wizards was ever going to forget the man who had tried to make one of them his ´natural thermal blanket´. They escaped narrowly thanks to Snape scratching the man´s face and Potter´s biting his ankle. After their flight – hopefully the muggle was never going to remember a cat hanging on his door handle and turning the key – they sat panting behind some rubbish bins. It was snowing heavily, but neither of them cared. They didn´t dare seek out another muggle this evening.

However, the worst was yet to come.

If the potions master had counted the days of their odyssey right, it was early December. The storms had weakened, but the snow lay higher than Snape remembered it to ever have at this time of the year. How very appropriate, he thought fatalistically, for the weather to do its worst when he was on a forced hiking tour with Harry Potter.

They had wandered past the lights of what Snape hoped was Newcastle and Potter had purred their way into a house, where they were given milk and leftovers of roast pork. The muggle residents, a couple of perhaps fourty – they seemed to be childless, for which Snape was grateful as he didn´t feel like chasing wool or whatever – left the room after setting a bowl of food in front of their furry guests.

They returned shortly later with a man holding a plastic box. Snape nearly panicked. He retreated, hissing and spitting. Potter wasn´t as quick on the uptake, but when he saw the man´s overall, he joined his teacher´s protests.

"Sometimes I think they can read," the man said to the couple. He put his box on the table and approached the spitting cats.

Snape and his charge both shrank back. The potions master tried to see a way out, but the door had been closed and there were three muggles in the small room.

The overall-clad man – he wore protective gloves, so scratching and biting wasn´t going to help – stepped nearer and bent down to get the first cat. Snape tried by instinct to get between the man and Potter, but he knew it was no use.

The man grabbed the boy first and stuffed the struggling cat into the box, all the while promising him to not hurt him and to only have his best in mind. When the small lattice closed on Potter, Snape gave up his fight. He allowed himself to be picked up and put into the box, too. They couldn´t be seperated.

The potions master wondered what an animal shelter was going to be like.

-x-

Purgatory. Hell. Beelzebub´s retreat.

They were locked in a tiny cage. A tiny, cold metal cage. There wasn´t even a blanket to rest on. The only thing in it – apart from them – was a bowl with water. They hadn´t been fed yet. How ironic that they had to fight nail and tooth to end up in there. The one advantage the cage had was that they were in it together.

The keeper, another man wearing a blue overall, had tried to put them into seperate rooms. Both cats had scratched, bitten, hissed and spat until they were put back into their plastic prison. There, they had sat side by side and purred loudly. The boy had even gone so far to rub his head against his companion´s side – another reason to kill him once they were safely back.

However, the muggle had gotten the message and put them into this cage.

"Calm down," he said as he closed the small door. "I´ll get the vet to see you and then you´ll get some nice healthy food. You´ll see, we´ll find you a home in a trice. – You at least." The last was adressed at Potter. The boy had the decency to hiss at the man angrily.

Now they were waiting for the vet. Snape was a bit anxious what this person was going to do to them. He had never been to a muggle doctor, much less a veterinary.

The boy looked equally anxious. Perhaps he hadn´t been to a veterinary either? Snape tried to remember whether the Golden Boy had ever mentioned a muggle pet, but he couldn´t recall any.

The man returned with the doctor a while later. The potions master thought that seeing a vet might be not that bad. The veterinary turned out to be a woman of perhaps thirty, thirty-five at the most, with long blonde hair, greyish-green eyes and a brilliant smile.

"So, Paul, where are your wildcats?" she teased when she entered the room.

"Over there. In cage D."

The woman came nearer and gazed at the two black cats. "They look perfectly harmless."

"As long as you don´t try to touch them," said the man called Paul. "Try to seperate them and they´ll run wild."

"Can you take one of them to my table?" the woman asked kindly.

Paul put on gloves and reached for Potter. The boy hissed, but stayed still otherwise. The woman took the cat from Paul and scratched his ears. "Ssssh," she soothed. "Nobody´s going to harm you beautiful. I´m just going to make sure you´re not ill. Nobody will take in a cat without a health certificate and you want to find a home, don´t you?"

Potter calmed down a bit and purred, but only until the woman tried to find out whether he had fever. Paul hurried to assist her and held Potter down.

Snape felt his blood leave his face as he watched Potter´s eyes bulging out in shock. Hadn´t it been for his black fur, he´d have been chalk white. There was no way he was going to let that muggle put her thermometer THERE!

After the woman was sure that the cat on her table had no fever, she examined its teeth (Potter tried to bite her, but to no success) and gave him an injection ("Nobody ever cared to inoculate you, did they?"). Then Potter was handed back to Paul, who carried him back to the cage.

Potter panted as if he had run a marathon. Snape shrank back as far as possible, but Paul´s glove-clad hand reached for him and dragged him out. The potions master hissed at the woman and arched his back.

"We are a little devil, aren´t we?" the woman asked casually. "Don´t release him, Paul." She reached for her thermometer. Snape struggled desperately, but Paul was stronger. At last the potions master had to admit defeat and endure the procedure. He stood, his head held high, trying to hold onto his dignity. Was Potter smirking at him?

The examination of teeth ("If you were human I´d recommend a denture.") and the injection ("Actually this is a waste of material. Who´s going to take this shabby creature?") were not so bad. At last the veterinary – Snape vowed to himself to hex her into oblivion as soon as he got his wand back – ordered Paul to brush the potions master´s fur.

"Tell applicants we give them away only together. Perhaps Gorgeous is going to buy his friend a home. We can always give this one away alone, if it doesn´t work," the woman rummaged in a drawer. "Here, add a drop of this to the shabby´s food. It will make the fur more shiny."

"Do you think it will really help?" Paul laughed while holding Snape down and brushing his back not too gently. The potions master decided when he came back for the woman, he could as well hex them both.

"Not really," laughed the veterinary and turned in the doorway, "but we want to try everything, don´t we?"

When Paul had finished Snape´s trim, he sat him back into the cage and followed the woman outside.

The potions master shivered violently. Potter shuffled closer and licked the other cat´s neck twice, before he seemed to remember whom he was encaged with and withdrew. This time Snape didn´t think about killing the boy.

-x-

In the morning, the two magical cats were moved to another cage in a large room, where dozens of cats waited to be taken into a new home.

Unsurprisingly, the veterinary was right. Even that very afternoon two families wanted to take Potter with them, but they withdrew their requests when they were informed that they had to take both cats.

Snape spent hours cleaning his fur. They needed someone to take them out of the animal shelter to continue their journey home. Their cage was too small to transform in it and so they had to wait for a good soul to free them.

Life in their cage was bad. They got only muggle cat food from tins and it tasted abysmal. Snape had to force himself to eat at all and Potter was equally reluctant to stomach their hellish diet. The only reason why Snape didn´t go on hunger strike was the prospect of being presented to the veterinary again.

The potions master waited anxiously for the day when the muggles were going to decide that Potter was better off without him. They had been imprisoned for a fortnight now. How was he supposed to find the boy when he was adopted by a muggle family? How was he supposed to get out of the cage alone? His only hope was that the boy was going to transform and come back for him, but what if Potter didn´t or couldn´t? Was the boy old enough to get a cat from the shelter? And did you need money to get one?

Snape was startled from his thoughts by voices coming nearer.

"My son wants a black cat," he heard a man say. "I´d like to give him one for Christmas."

"You´re lucky, Sir," Paul answered. "We have several to choose from."

The clicking sound of heeled boots came nearer. "Ah, the big one is exactly what my son would like," the man said when he stood in front of their cage.

Both wizards withdrew to the back wall of their cage. Through the bars, Lucius Malfoy was staring at them.

"An excellent choice, Sir," said Paul. "But these two are only available together. They grew up together and wouldn´t like to be seperated."

The blond smiled sweetly. "No problem," he said. "We have plenty of room for two. Draco will be thrilled."

The two cats were put into another plastic cage – Lucius Malfoy informed Paul that he wished to purchase the item as he had no time to bring it back – and the muggle carried them outside for his customer.

In the corridor they met the veterinary. "Sheela, our two shadows have found a home," Paul cried cheerfully.

The woman smiled at Lucius Malfoy. "That´s very good of you to take them both, Sir."

"Who would want to do otherwise when they are friends," the blond wizard smiled, though there was no warmth behind it. He led the way to the parking lot.

A man in a black uniform was waiting for him by the car. With a shudder, the potions master recognised Wormtail. The small man hinted a bow when Lucius approached and opened the door to the front seat for Paul to put the cage into the car.

After a short conversation (Paul wished the blonde joy with his new pets and Lucius promised to feed them well) the blond wizard climbed into the car and off they were.

-x-

Wormtail looked into the rear view mirror to gaze at Lucius.

"Two?" he asked finally.

"They wouldn´t give me the one I chose without the other. It´s no problem. Draco needs something to practice his unforgivables anyway."

The two cats stared at each other in shock. This was so very bad! For two months they had managed to stay undetected by deatheaters. Oh, what irony that they were going to be caught, because Lucius Malfoy purchased his son´s Christmas present at a muggle institution.

"Did you order the Christmas roast, Wormtail?" the older Malfoy asked after a little while of quiet travelling. "The Dark Lord will grace us with his presence at Christmas. Everything has to be perfect."

"I ordered two, just to make sure," Wormtail replied eagerly.

"Well done, Wormtail, well done," drawled Lucius. "What else will we need? You have been His closest servant. You know what he likes. What else can we do to please Him?"

"I discussed the menu with Lady Narcissa yesterday," Wormtail pointed out proudly. "Have you thought of entertainment? He has a liking for piano music. Do you know how to play? Or did you at least invite a decent pianist? It would also be good to have one or two of his enemies imprisoned. Just in case he gets in a mood for some torture."

"Hmm, enemies? No, I haven´t thought of that. It´s a bit short notice to come up with a plan."

"A plan? Lucius, you don´t need to present Him with Harry Potter! Just imprison someone who´s not full-heartedly devoted to Him and He´ll be pleased."

"That can be easily arranged. Has anyone punished the Burbages yet? One of their sons married a muggle."

"Ah, blood-traitors. Brilliant."

They drove through iron gates and up to Malfoy Manor.

Lucius Malfoy got off the car. "Bring them to Draco´s rooms," he ordered, skipping back from brothers in arms to master and servant flawlessly. "Tell the house elves to feed them and tend to their fur. And have bows put on them." He entered the house with long strides without waiting for Wormtails reply.

The smaller wizard went around the car and took the box out. "You´re pretty heavy!" he complained while he carried the two cats up a marble staircase.

Draco´s rooms turned out to be on the second floor and were nearly as big as Hogwart´s Great Hall. Wormtail put the box down and called for an elf.

"How may Potty serve you?" a young elf bowed low.

"These are Master Draco´s new pets." Wormtail motioned at the box. "Lord Lucius wishes they be fed and brushed. And make sure they don´t destroy any of Master Draco´s possessions."

The elf bowed again and Wormtail left. Carefully the elf came nearer. "It is cats!" it squeaked. "Potty hates cats! They are going to scratch and bite Potty!" The elf opened the box from a distance.

Slowly, careful not to scare the elf, Potter tiptoed out. The elf retreated. "Oh, master is not going to be pleased. Potty is afraid of cats. Potty is a bad elf!" The creature smacked its cheek violently.

The young animagus followed the elf until the servant was backed against the wall and couldn´t escape. The scared creature raised its arms to protect its face. Potter closed the distance on soft paws and rubbed his head against the elf, purring.

Hadn´t their wellbeing depended on the elf, Snape would have vomited there and then.

The elf stood on tiptoe, his arms raised protectively in front of its face and shivered. Slowly, centimeter by centimeter, the creature lowered its hands as Potter continued rubbing his head on the elf´s dirty knees.

"You is a friendly cat!" the elf piped.

Potter purred even louder. The elf took it as agreement and shyly touched the animagus´ head with his left hand, only to withdraw an instant later. The boy stopped his rubbing and looked the elf in the eyes, still purring. Hesitantly the elf extended its hand again. This time it stroked the purring cat cautiously. Potter leaned into the touch and purred even louder, if this was possible.

The elf giggled nervously.

Snape wished he had a wand. He´d cast the killing curse on himself without hesitation. As he had none, he grudgingly admired Potter´s marvellous instincts when it came to non-verbal communication with magical creatures.

The boy chose this moment to glare at the potions master sternly.

Yes, they needed this elf to feed them.

Cautiously, not to frighten the servant, Snape tiptoed nearer. He leaned closer and allowed the elf to touch him. He tried to purr, but no sound would come out. The potions master made a mental note to ask Potter how it was done the next time they transformed. If there was a next time.

"You is two friendly cats!" Potty, the elf, beamed. It didn´t seem offended by Snape´s lack of audible signs of delight. "Potty is going to bring you food." With a crack the elf disapparated.

Potter started to explore Draco´s room at once. He hopped on the desk, but it had been tidied up. There was nothing interesting to be found. Snape followed the boy´s lead and inspected the book shelves. There were more tomes on dark magic than in the restricted area of Hogwarts´ library, but nothing useful for a wandless wizard. The boy continued his exploration on the bedside table, but this, too, seemed to have been cleaned of all items.

At last the boy lay down on Draco´s pillow and curled up for a nap.

Snape looked around to find himself a spot to do the same. At last he curled up beside the boy. How was he supposed to protect him from the other side of the room?

-x-

The elf returned quickly, Snape hadn´t even fallen asleep. It rumaged in a corner of the room, then turned to another and finally went to search for the cats.

"You is not to sleep in Master Draco´s bed!" it scolded when it found them. It slapped Potter on his behind, but withdrew nervously when Snape hissed at it. "Alright," it piped, "Potty is going to clean Master Draco´s bed, if Master´s cats wish to sleep there. – Potty will show cats their things."

Snape followed Potter down to the floor and after the elf. He hoped that the small creature wasn´t going to realise that this was rather un-catish behaviour.

"This is Master´s cats dining area," said the elf. Two bowls made of fine white china stood on a small carpet – was this a Persian? One was filled with milk and one with – roast beef? "Master´s cats will get the left overs of the day before," the elf explained importantly, oblivious to the fact that real cats were not likely to understand him.

"This," the elf went on without giving them time to eat and proceeded to the other corner, "is Master´s cats´ toilet. You is not to use any other spot of the room."

Snape sighed. The fortnight with Potter in a cage had been humiliating, his rotten luck that it wasn´t over. Couldn´t they have two toilets?

"Potty will be back in a while." The elf bowed and left.

The two cats returned to their food bowls and shared an excellent meal. The Malfoys, it turned out, had an extraordinary good taste for food and very skilled house elves.

After the meal the potions master shouldered past Potter to use the cat toilet first. If they had to share, he would get the pleasure of using a fresh one at least once. He should have known that the Malfoy household provided better than the muggle animal shelter. As soon as he was done, he felt a tingle of magic. He looked down. Yes, the sand was clean again. Next he felt a tickling on his behind. Grateful for his black fur to hide his blush, he left the box. Disgusting as it was, he´d have prefered to clean himself THERE.

After a brief tongue-wash of his fur, the potions master returned to Draco´s pillow for another nap. There wasn´t much else to do. He didn´t dare sleep at once, but after watching Potter playing with the toilet for a quarter hour, he decided that the cleaning charm didn´t present imminent danger and closed his eyes.


	6. Chapter 6

Staying at Malfoy Manor was dangerous but unavoidable. Their keeper, Potty, always apparated in and out of the room, so the door was never opened. Unfortunately, the door had a knob instead of a handle, so there was no way to open it in cat form.

As the days went by, Snape grew nervous. Not only because of the prospect of spending Christmas under a roof with the Dark Lord, but also because Lucius had hinted to Wormtail that he – Snape – was to be Draco´s sparring partner for unforgivables.

It wasn´t so much that he thought the boy could really hurt him, it was Lucius or – Merlin forbid – the Dark Lord demonstrating how it was done that he feared. He wasn´t sure whether he´d be able to maintain his animagus form under Cruciatus and if he unvoluntarily transformed, he was going to give Potter away.

Apart from the growing tension, life at Draco´s room wasn´t so bad. The food was extraordinary good (and much), the bed was clean and warm and the company could have been worse.

Snape found out that Potter was an entertaining companion as long as he was a cat and didn´t talk. The boy was very inventive when it came to creating diversion. He spent hours playing with the tickling cleaning charm in the cat toilet (Snape found the way the younger cat wiggled his frame as if shaking with laughter endearing). Another day the boy found a remembral on one of the book shelves and chased it around the room all afternoon. Snape was even tempted to join the game, but of course it would be most inappropriate for a teacher to chase a remembral with a student, so he stayed on the pillow and watched.

The best game of all was ´knock over Draco´s possessions´. Potty the elf didn´t like it that much, but Snape found it amusing.

The potions master counted the days, so it came as no surprise, when one evening the door opened and Draco Malfoy entered his room. Lucius was right behind the boy.

"So tell me, where is that surprise you promised me, Father?" Draco asked eagerly.

Lucius craned his neck. "On your pillow, I´d say."

Draco looked twice. "Another fur cap?" The disappointment was clear in his voice.

"Not a cap," laughed Lucius. "Take a closer look."

Draco strode to his bed. "A cat, Father!" he beamed. "You know for how long I´ve been wanting one." He picked Potter up. "Does he have a name yet?"

"Of course not," said Lucius graciously. "As he is yours, the name is yours to choose."

"Rasputin, it is then," cried Draco and held Potter at arm´s lenght. "Black like the devil, exactly what I´d have chosen. Thank you, Father!" He only then noticed the smaller cat on his pillow. "Two? Why did you purchase two?"

"They´re kind of brothers," said Lucius. "They wouldn´t give me one without the other, but Rasputin was exactly what I wanted for you. I thought you can practise your curses on the shabby one."

Snape arched his back and hissed. At least he wasn´t going to die quietly.

Draco laughed. "Look, he may not be beautiful, but he has a fighter´s heart. May I keep them both?"

"If that´s what you wish."

"I will call him Hagen."

"Hagen? The one who killed Siegfried?" Lucius laughed. "Dinner will be in a quarter hour. Don´t be late, son."

Draco put his wand on this bedside table when his father had left and dropped his cloak on the floor lazily. An elf was going to take care of it. He sat on his bed, grabbed Potter by the fur on his neck and dragged him towards him. Potter let it happen without a fight despite the rather rude – or was the blond boy only clumsy? – treatment.

"Let me look at you properly," the boy said to the cat. He lifted Potter so that he had to stand on his hind legs and stared into his eyes. The cat stared back unblinkingly. "You have no idea for how long I´ve been wanting a cat." Draco lowered Potter on the bed and began to stroke his fur. The Gryffindor relaxed and even began to purr. "I will take good care of you," Draco continued. "But I won´t be able to take you to school. We´re only allowed one pet and I really need my owl."

Potter rubbed his head on the other boy´s thigh.

"And now let me see you. Keep your claws in!" The blond dragged Snape onto his lap by one of his forelegs and scratched his ears gently. "You are a bit thin, that makes you look shabby. I will tell the elves to fatten you up a bit. I´ll brush your fur every day and you will see, soon you´ll be as beautiful as your brother."

Snape wasn´t exactly thrilled by the prospect of being brushed by Draco Malfoy on a daily basis, but better that than being on the receiving end of his cruciatus training. Stiffling a fatalistic sigh he leaned into the boy´s stroking hand.

-x-

Draco left them in his room when he went downstairs for dinner. The potions master and his charge received food (chicken and rice) from Potty, the elf. After the meal Snape stretched out on Draco´s pillow, while the boy played with the cleaning charm for a while.

Later – Snape estimated it had been two hours – Draco returned and played with them a bit. He charmed a ball to roll around and Potter chased it. Snape watched his companion for a while, but didn´t go after the toy himself until Draco pushed him from the bed and told him off for being lazy.

The blond took his new cats through their paces, he increased the speed of the ball little by little. Potter, being a seeker, enjoyed the game. He was quick and determined. He followed the small red ball wherever it went. Under the desk, around the chair, under the bed, on the window sill. Snape trotted after the younger wizard obediently – it didn´t seem wise to anger Draco – but he couldn´t have caught the ball if his life depended on it. He had never liked sports.

When Draco grew tired of the game, he prepared for bed and slid under his blanket in his pale blue silk nightshirt – another piece of information Snape never wanted – and gathered his new pets close. Snuggled up to two students – one in cat form – for the night. Snape wished again he had a wand to kill himself.

-x-

Draco, it turned out, was a morning person. He woke at the crack of dawn and instead of rolling over for another nap, he stretched luxuriously, yawned once and got up with what Snape considered too much energy for the ungodly hour.

Potter seemed to agree with Snape´s view of the situation for he growled when the Malfoy heir started whistling a merry Christmas tune on his way to the shower.

Once Draco was ready for the day, he spent half an hour brushing his – tired – new pets´ fur, with special attention to "Hagen"´s. The brushing finished, the boy rummaged in his bedside drawer and produced two Slytherin green leather collars. Snape decided he didn´t want to know why Draco kept those despite his new cats had been a surprise.

As there was no way to escape, the two animagi let the blond attach his collars grudgingly. Snape just hoped they´d be able to brush them off, when – if – they escaped Malfoy Manor. If not, they couldn´t transform or they were going to suffocate or, as the leather seemed rather strong, rather strangle themselves in the process.

The good surprise of the morning was that the boy was not ready to leave his pets behind when he went downstairs for breakfast.

"Come, Rasputin, Hagen," he called and the two cats obeyed gladly. They had to explore the house, if they ever hoped to escape. Luckily Malfoy seemed to know nothing about cats or at least he didn´t realise that following a call was entirely uncatish behaviour.

Snape, who had been to the manor as a guest on many occasions in the past – some of them deatheater meetings, others social calls – followed the boy without fuss, but Potter, who had never been to a place comparable to the Malfoy estate, gaped at everything. The marble staircase, the exquisite paintings, the silk draperies, the damask table cloth, the fine china – Snape was quite sure it was muggle – and the dark blue silk upholstery of the chairs.

"Draco," said Narcissa Malfoy, who was already sitting at the table in a dress other women would have chosen for a ball, "do you have to bring those beasts to the meal?"

"Mother, please, let me," Draco pleaded in a sweet voice and made puppy eyes, "I won´t be able to take them to Hogwarts and I´d like to spend as much time with them as I can."

"Of course, sweetheart, if it´s your wish." Narcissa smiled sweetly and patted her son´s cheek as he sat beside her. Potter looked like he was going to vomit.

"Draco, stop behaving like a seven year old," said Lucius from the other end of the table. He wore a black silk morning gown. "You are not a child to get your wishes through flattery. You are a man, so argue your desires."

"Yes, Father."

Narcissa scowled at her husband. "Don´t listen to him, Draco. Sometimes, a little flattery would do him good."

Lucius lowered his copy of the Daily Prophet. "I will not be spoken at like this in front of my son, woman."

Narcissa sneered and reached for the teapot to pour her son a cup of the brew.

The two cats explored the room, while the family was eating. Snape was proud to see that Potter looked for doors and windows and also sat on the sill for a while to see where they had to run, if they managed to leave the house. The boy was not entirely useless.

When the Malfoys had finished their meal, Narcissa poured another cup of tea for herself and Draco. She called for the house elves, who removed the dishes but the newly filled teacups and a small plate of bacon and bits of sausage Draco drew in front of him.

"Rasputin! Come here, good cat. Here, Kitty, Kitty, Kitty!" cried the boy softly.

It took Potter some moments to realise that he was called, but then he came to his master obediently. Draco bent down and lifted the cat onto his lap. He stroked Potter´s back, who purred and kneaded the boy´s thighs with his front paws.

"Draco," said Lucius over the rim of his newspaper, "don´t you dare put that beast on the table."

"No, Father," replied the boy and exchanged a wink with his mother.

Snape watched Potter being fed bacon for a little while, then he decided it would be wise to act like a proper cat and started tapping Draco´s leg with his front paw. When the boy didn´t react, he used his claws.

"Ouch!" whined the blond and kicked at the smaller cat. "Bad cat!"

"If you don´t want him, get rid of him," said Lucius and rustled his copy of the Prophet. "I told you you need to practice your unforgivables. How can you face our Christmas guest when you can´t even cast Cruciatus properly?"

Snape shrank back a bit and Potter stood on Draco´s leg. He pulled all the stops to distract the boy. He kneaded his thighs, he purred, he rubbed his head against his arch-enemy.

It worked. Draco stroked the seemingly love-starved cat on his lap. "No," he said. "I want them both." He dropped some pieces of sausage on the floor for Snape to eat.

"Not on the carpet!" hissed Lucius.

"Yes, Father. I´ll take them to my room." Draco sat Potter on the floor and led the way upstairs.

-x-

The blond took them downstairs to breakfast every day from then on, but other than that, the two cats were trapped in the boy´s bedroom.

Then, on Christmas Eve, they heard heavy trunks being dragged past their door.

"I hope my Lord will find the rooms agreeable," they heard Lucius say.

"I´m sure you gave me the best your house has to offer," replied a cold, hissing voice.

The potions master fled under the bed and Potter followed his lead without hesitation. Snape scrutinized the cat beside him. The boy shivered. Was he in pain? The potions master could have slapped himself. He had known for years that the boy´s scar hurt whenever the Dark Lord was nearby. Was Potter in pain now? A look into the other cat´s eyes reassured Snape that it was rather panic than agony the boy was suffering. Good. Nevertheless, how could he forget about such crucial questions? It might put them in danger! He didn´t even know whether the boy had the scar in his cat form!

The two animagi stayed in their hiding place under the bed. They curled up to each other, trying to find some comfort, but it didn´t do much good. Snape felt Potter shiver beside him and he had to use all his willpower to not start shaking, too. What if the Dark Lord was able to see them for what they were? Lucius hadn´t recognized them for humans, but the Dark Lord was a different league.

Several hours later, Draco came to his room. Snape guessed that it must be shortly after dinner. It had been dark outside – as far as he could see from under the bed – for a while.

"Come here, Rasputin! Come here, Hagen!"

Snape nudged Potter and approached the blond Slytherin. Both cats were lifted and Draco took them downstairs.

"Our guest wishes to see my early Christmas present," he informed his pets. Potter started to struggle, but Snape slapped him with his front paw. They had to act cattish more than ever.

They were carried to a room they hadn´t been to before. Snape, though, knew it from previous visits. It was the Malfoy library, the biggest private collection of books in Britain. The amount and quality of the tomes on the shelves rivaled Hogwart´s library, especially the sections on Dark Arts and Artefacts was easily bigger than the school´s.

Draco carried them to the fireplace, where a group of people was assembled.

The Dark Lord occupied a red velvet armchair. Lucius and Narcissa sat on a sofa, as did Bellatrix Lestrange and her husband Rodolphus. Wormtail stood in the background with a bottle of brownish liquid, waiting to refill glasses should it be desired.

Draco approached the snakelike man. Snape could feel the boy tense as he knelt in front of the armchair.

"My cats, my Lord," the younger Malfoy said and bent his head in a gesture of submission.

The evil wizard bent down and lifted the nearest cat onto his lap. He tickled Snape´s ears. "I see, Draco," he hissed contently, "that you´re not blinded by beauty. Which qualities does this creature possess to win your affection."

"Hagen is fierce," said Draco. "He fights for what he wants."

"Hagen? – Ah, I love the story of the Nibelungs! So inspiring!" He stroked Snape´s fur. "He´s a bit shabby."

"We´re working on it, my Lord," said Draco. "He is given a potion to improve his looks."

"A potion!" cried the Dark Lord. "Don´t remind me of that traiterous potions master! He made me a laughing-stock!"

"Never, my Lord!" cried Bellatrix in protest. "How could a vile creature like him ever lessen the glory of our Lord!"

Voldemort smiled coldly. "Yes, you´re right, Bellatrix, my most faithful. How could he. He will be punished, of course. Are there any news on the hunt?"

Rodolphus cleared his throat uncomfortably. "No, my Lord, it´s like they disappeared from the face of the earth. They don´t have wands and they wore robes. How can wandless wizards in robes blend in with muggles?"

"Obviously those two can," hissed the Dark Lord.

"My Lord," cried Bellatrix eagerly, "we have an advantage! We know where they are going! We can catch them at the very gates of Hogwarts if need be!"

"You better do," said the Dark Lord with false calm, "or face my wrath!" He pushed Snape from his lap and got up. "I shall retire for today." He left the room, ignoring his bowing hosts.

Lucius waited for a while before he rose, too. "You may retire also, Draco. I will see you to your rooms."

Draco gathered his pets and followed his father upstairs. He said no word until they were in his room, behind closed doors.

"He´s so creepy, Father," the boy said feebly. "Don´t misunderstand me, it is my wish to follow your lead and serve him faithfully for his goals are just and honorable. But he is scary."

"Draco," said Lucius carefully, "many, my son, find the Dark Lord ´scary´. Magic is about power. Power and magic go hand in hand. Wizards are naturally ambitious. It is in our blood to explore magic and seek more power. Our Lord holds more power than any of us, he´s our natural superior. This is disquietening for most wizards. Be wise, my son. Don´t show how much you fear him, for it would give away how much more power he has. Serve him well and some of his glory will fall to you."

"Yes, Father," said Draco.

Lucius turned on his heel and left.

Draco stroked his cats for a while and took off their collars for the night. Then he put on his nightshirt and crawled under his duvet. The two cats curled up beside him like they had done every evening since the boy returned home for the Christmas break.

Snape had barely fallen asleep, when he was woken by soft footsteps. He arched his back and pushed Potter, who blinked twice and then jumped on his feet as well. The potions master thought frantically. What was he to do? Then he remembered that his first priority was Potter and there was only one course of action.

It was the Dark Lord who stepped to Draco´s bed in a crimson nightshirt, illuminated by a small light on the tip of his wand.

"My Lord?" Draco asked sleepily.

"I´ve come to discuss the alliance with your house," the snake-like man hissed softly.

Snape jumped from the bed and ran to the door, which the Dark Lord had left open. He was confident that Potter followed, as the boy had looked for a way out over the past days himself. And what was more, Potter had shown that he was quick on the uptake in crises before.

The potions master hurried down the corridor towards the staircase. He stopped at what he knew was Lucius´ bedroom door and miaowed. Potter followed his lead. Moments later they heard heavy footsteps in the room.

"The cats are in the corridor. Something must be wrong with Draco." When Lucius opened his bedroom door seconds later, the two cats were already halfway down the stairs.

Snape jumped and hung to the handle of the front door. He turned the key, which wasn´t easy for a cat, but he succeeded. Then he hung on the handly with all his might, but it wouldn´t move. The door was too heavy.

Suddenly he felt a second body beside him. Potter was hanging there and struggling with every fibre of his body. Little by little the handle moved. Snape pushed against the door frame with his hind legs and slowly the door creaked open.

As soon as the crack was wide enough to allow a cat through, the potions master let go of the handle. Angry shouts were to be heard from upstairs when the two cats swished from the house and ran for the gates. Potter, being bigger, was faster, but Snape ran for his life and stayed close. When he reached the gates, he turned.

The light of spells was to be seen in the windows of the upper floor. The potions master hoped with all his heart that Lucius and not Draco was on the receiving end of Voldemort´s ire. With a silent prayer for his student´s safety, he slid past the iron gates and followed Potter.

They ran for hours. When Snape finally signalled Potter to take a break, they both panted. Potter looked at his teacher questioningly. With a curt nod the older wizard signalled he considered it safe to transform.

"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God," chanted Potter. He paced back and forth, to and fro. "I thought he was going to recognise us! He was going to kill us! You sat on his lap!"

The potions master turned on the spot to allow himself to look at the boy. "I did and nothing bad happened to us. So calm down, Jim."

The use of his code name startled the boy out of his panic. He stopped short and glared at the potions master. "How can you be so calm? I thought he was going to kill us! And before that I thought Lucius would use Cruciatus on you! And before that I was afraid those muggles were going to kill us! Or..." The boy blushed.

"Or?" Snape asked pointedly.

"You know... uhm ... make sure we didn´t produce more strays." The boy blushed even more if it was possible.

The older wizard stared at the younger blankly for a moment, then he, too, blushed.

"Luckily this did not happen," Snape said after a short silence, when he thought he had regained enough control to let his voice sound steady.

"Luckily," said the boy. "What now?"

"Now, Jim," said the potions master, "we find ourselves a safe place to sleep and after a good night's sleep, we continue our journey."

As they had spent more than three weeks in cat form without a break, neither of the two wizards wished to transform again so soon. They hiked in their human form and shortly after sunrise they found another barn. There was hay and they both fell into it tiredly.

"Toby?" Potter asked softly after a little while.

"Yes?"

"I´m cold and I ... I feel a bit nervous."

The potions master wasn´t sure what to say, but the boy continued when there was no response.

"Is it okay, uhm, would you mind, er, just this once, I don´t mean to be a burden..."

"Jim," hissed the older wizard, "what do you want?"

There was a short pause. Then. "MayIsnuggleuptoyou?"

"What?"

The boy lifted his head to look at the potions master. His cheeks glowed. "I said, may I – just this once – snuggle up to you?"

The potions master sighed. "Sharing our warmth sounds reasonable," he grumbled. "We have done it in cat form after all." He extended his arms in what he hoped was an inviting gesture.

Potter shifted in the hay until he lay beside his teacher. "Thanks," he piped and put an arm around the other wizard´s waist. His head, he lay onto Snape´s shoulder.

"You´re welcome," the older man mumbled. He enclosed the boy in an embrace.

"I have been thinking," said the boy after a while.

"About what?"

"Draco."

"Draco is safe." Snape tried to sound sure, although he wasn´t. "The Dark Lord wanted to remind Lucius of his place. He just scared him. He didn´t hurt Draco."

"How do you know?"

The boy shifted and looked up into Snape´s eyes. It felt wrong to lie. "I don´t. But I hope. The spell light was not green."

"I hope it, too." Potter settled back down onto the potions master´s shoulder and a little later both wizards were asleep.


	7. Chapter 7

The potions master was woken by a sharp pain in his side and angry voices. He blinked and tried to distinguish the words that were said, but as several people were talking at the same time, he didn´t succeed.

The pain repeated itself, even stronger this time, and a part of Snape´s brain registered that he was kicked with a boot. He tried to get away, but couldn´t move with the armful of boy that held him down. He tightened his grip on Potter protectively. Whoever was kicking him wasn´t to get the boy.

"I said hands off the boy, dirty pervert!" shouted a man.

Snape blinked again and this time his sleepy eyes made out the shapes of three policemen and a man in work clothes.

Potter chose exactly this moment to wake up and struggle free from his teacher, blushing in embarrassment.

"Don´t be afraid, child," said one of the policemen and seized Potter by his upper arm. "It´s over, you won´t be molested again." He pulled the boy away from Snape.

The Boy Wonder blinked owlishly and allowed himself to be dragged up. Snape had to let go of his charge as another policeman pointed at him with his fireweapon. The man in working clothes shook a hay-fork threateningly.

"You are save now," the policeman, who held Potter, informed the boy.

"But," said the boy at last, "this is my uncle. What are you talking about?"

"Ha," cried the policeman, "they always call themselves ´uncle´!"

Snape followed the exchange with his hands raised above his head. He just hoped the boy was going to be able to convince the officers that he, Snape, was a harmless relative.

"He´s my uncle like in ´my mother´s brother´." Potter glared at the policeman who still held him by his arm. Snape couldn´t help feeling grateful that the boy hadn´t made him Potter senior´s brother. "See?" Potter asked defiantly, "we have both black hair!"

"But you don´t have his nose," the police officer pointed out, shaken.

"Thank God, no," grinned the boy. Snape decided they had to discuss his cheek properly once they were in private. "My mum didn´t have his nose either. Or do you think my dad would have married her?"

The assembled muggles snickered and Snape put them on the list of persons he wished to hex once he had his wand back.

"As my nephew convinced you of the innocence of the situation, I´d appreciate it if you put down your weapon," Snape snarled at the policeman who was pointing his gun at him. The officer obeyed hastily. "I´m sorry, Sir," he said, "we were alerted by this concerned citizen, who found you in his barn."

The man in the working clothes scratched the back of his head. "I had the boy´s best in mind," he said to the potions master, who glared at him.

"And Uncle Toby is very grateful for that," Potter smiled winningly. "As am I. I wish everybody would watch out for children´s welfare like you, Sir."

Snape fought down the urge to vomit. Where had the Boy Wonder learned this behaviour? A moment later the potions master recognized the benign smile. Dumbledore. Well, he´d better follow the boy´s lead, although this kind of behaviour was against everything Severus Snape stood for.

"Indeed," he tried to copy Potter´s smile. "I´m very grateful you watched out for my dear nephew. Thank you, Sir. God bless you for your kindness." As he felt already sick, he might as well lay it on thick.

Potter smiled at him, but cocked an eyebrow. Snape returned the smile, putting in a dose of smirk.

"You know," the Gryffindor said boldly, "we´re on our way to grandpa. We have no money left and we had to sleep in this barn. I felt cold and Uncle Toby warmed me a bit." He sat beside Snape.

The potions master recognized a challenge when he saw one. He put his arm around the boy´s shoulder. "I can´t allow my only living relative to freeze!" He pulled the boy closer as if warming him again.

"Only living relative?" asked one of the policemen. "I thought you were going to the boy´s grandfather!"

Snape squeezed the boy playfully. "He´s my only relative," he said as if explaining the obvious. "Grandpa is his father´s father. No relative of mine. But the old man has a house and invited us both to live with him. – Unfortunately he didn´t send the money for the journey."

The farmer shuffled his feet. "Would you, Sir, and your nephew grant me the honour to join me for Christmas dinner? I´m alone and I have a roast turkey."

Potter beamed at the man. "Can we, Uncle Toby? Please?" He looked at Snape (pleadingly) and the farmer (smiling brightly) in turn.

"We don´t want to be a burden," said the potions master, "but if you really don´t mind..."

The farmer smiled. "Done! You´ll come and help me eat that turkey."

One of the policemen rummaged in his pocket and produced a banknote he dropped it into his cap and held it out to the other two, who put in a banknote each, too.

"Sir," the officer holding the cap said, "please accept a little help for your journey."

"We can´t accept that!" cried Snape.

"Take it for the boy," said the muggle, "it´s Christmas and no child should want."

Snape accepted the banknotes graciously and took the men off the list of people to hex.

-x-

It turned out that roast turkey was about all the farmer had for Christmas dinner. There was no salad, no sauce, no stuffing, no vegetables, no nothing.

"I will make mash potatoes," explained the farmer a bit awkwardly. "It´s what I make every year. I´m not very good at cooking and there´s only so much you can do wrong with mash potatoes."

"May I help?" Potter asked eagerly. "I´m not bad at cooking."

Snape suppressed a snort. If Potter´s abilities with a cauldron were anything to go by, he certainly was going to spoil the mash potatoes.

"If you like," shrugged the farmer, who had introduced himself as John on the way home. "I´m not very fond of cooking, so consider yourself welcome." He made an overdramatic, inviting gesture towards the kitchen. "You can use whatever you find."

"Great! Come Uncle Toby," the boy cried cheerfully and led the way to the stove.

Ten minutes later the potions master found himself in front of a pile of ingredients.

"Jim," he growled, "John will not be grateful, if we spoil his supplies!"

"We´re not going to spoil anything! We´re going to cook," Potter said stubbornly. "I´m good at cooking."

"I heard otherwise," Snape said pointedly, his tone full of warning.

"Even my aunt admits that I´m not useless in a kitchen," the boy protested.

His aunt? Bloody code language? Was the boy talking about McGonagall? Sprout? Trelawney? When had any of those Potter seen near a kitchen? Then the potions master remembered that Potter lived with his muggle aunt and uncle. This aunt? Did this aunt make Saint Potter work as a kitchen-boy?

"You may have helped, Jim," he pointed out, "but being responsible for the actual cooking..."

The boy interrupted him angrily. "I WAS responsible for the actual cooking! Again and again! I know nobody ever cared about what my aunt taught me, but don´t you dare tell me now what I can and can´t do! And now chop that red cabbage!"

It was fascinating, how somebody who was overtaxed with brewing a calming draught was able to cook red cabbage, dumplings and a gravy sauce at the same time and find time to whip up a vanilla cream for dessert. Potter stirred and added spices, he handled several dishes at the same time, he directed Snape to make himself useful (mostly cutting – "We both know that you´re good at that, don´t complain, it´s Christmas!) and glared at the potions master angrily from time to time.

Snape saw that his doubts had offended the boy, but he had no idea what to say. Should he apologise? Certainly not! He had only worded his opinion, based on what he knew from potions.

The farmer came back from his work in the stables two hours later.

"Just in time, John!" Potter cried merrily. "Dinner´s ready in ten minutes. Can you show Uncle Toby where you keep the cuttlery and stuff?"

Snape was sent to lay the table, while the farmer washed.

A quarter hour later the two men and the boy started a delicious dinner. John kept telling them that the bible was right. Those who were ready to give, received. "Here I was," he cried, "ready to share my simple chunk of meat and I got a proper meal in return! Praise the Lord!"

Snape shivered every time the muggle invoked his god. He had nothing against muggle religion, his parents had taken him to church several times, but the exact wording was a bit disturbing.

-x-

John insisted on the boy taking the spare bedroom and Snape staying on the sitting room sofa.

"Really, John," said Potter, "the sofa is too small for Uncle Toby. He can stay in my room. The bed is big enough."

The farmer shot Snape a suspicious glance. The boy saw it and reacted at once. "Or I could take the sofa. I´m smaller."

"No," the farmer declared. "I want you to have a room with a key."

"Really, Jim," the potions master sighed. "The sofa is not so bad. It´s okay. You take the bedroom and lock your door."

The night on the sofa was hell. Snape didn´t dare transform (the sofa would have been more than adequate in cat form) and so he tossed and turned all night, trying to find a comfortable position.

Breakfast couldn´t come too soon.

The muggle made coffee and Potter baked scones. Snape was – again – amazed.

"We have to go north," the potions master said between two bites of Potter´s baker´s ware. He made a mental note to investigate later what else Petunia Dursley had tought the boy. "Is there a bus or something?"

Potter looked up in surprise.

"There´s a bus." John explained the way to the station. Then he got up and – after rummaging in a drawer for some time – returned to the table with a schedule. "The next bus north goes in," he consulted his watch, "fifty minutes. You need twenty to reach the station."

"Then we won´t be a burden to you any longer," the potions master stated. "Grandpa is waiting."

The farmer gave them a bag with bread and turkey for lunch. He added a bottle of orange juice for the boy and a tin of beer for Snape and wished them a good journey. They hiked through the cold to the bus station.

The money from the policemen was enough to take them past Edinburgh.

"Wouldn´t it have been wise to keep some of the money for food?" asked the boy when they got off the bus.

"No," replied Snape.

"But look! There´s so much snow! We won´t find anything to eat!"

"Stop thinking with your stomach," growled the potions master. "We were fed without money so far, we will be again. We can always count on your kitten eyes. It´s more important to put some distance between ourselves and Malfoy Manor."

The boy shuddered.

"I thought so," the potions master snarled and led the way away from the main road, to the fields.

Potter followed obediently. For a while they walked in silence before the boy broke it.

"How far is it?" The wizarding hero sounded exhausted.

"How far is it to where?" asked the potions master. "To Hogwarts? I´d say to three weeks if we manage to walk a decent distance every day." He didn´t look back at the boy.

"No, I meant to wherever we are going today."

"Jim," hissed the older wizard, "you can´t be tired! You had a meal in the morning and at noon and you haven´t walked but half an hour."

"I know," the answer sounded miserable. "But I am."

The potions master stopped short and turned to face the boy. "Come here," he ordered and palmed the boy´s forehead. "You´ve got a fever. Why didn´t you say anything in the morning? We could have stayed with that muggle."

"I didn´t feel ill in the morning," piped the boy.

The potions master rummaged in his robes. "I have a bit of that muggle medicine left," he murmured and produced a box of tablets. "Here, take one."

The boy made a face as he tried to swallow the tablet without water.

"Chew it, if you have to," ordered Snape.

"You chew it yourself! This tastes vile!" The boy complained, but did as he was told.

Snape bit back a harsh remark. "When you´re done with the medicine, transform. I´ll carry you."

Potter stared at him in disbelief. The potions master stared back unblinkingly. Finally, the boy lowered his gaze and transformed. Snape picked the black cat up and proceeded along their path.

-x-

Had the potions master known that Potter was going to fall ill, he´d indeed have kept some money for food, but as it was, they had none. He considered going to a muggle village for help, but then his experiences with a veterinarian told him to hold out without one as long as possible.

So a barn it was again. Snape searched the building and its surroundings for something edible, but the boy had been – what a moment for this first – right. There was too much snow to find anything. So mice it had to be.

After placing Potter on a makeshift bed of hay, the older wizard transformed. He searched the barn on soft paws and soon he spotted a big mouse. He ducked and slithered nearer. Then he jumped. The mouse squeeked, but Snape had it in his mouth and wouldn´t let go. Content with his quick success he carried the mouse back to Potter.

He transformed and lay another tablet onto the dead rodent. Then he woke the sleeping cat with a gentle stroke over his back.

The boy´s eyes grew big as saucers when he saw Snape hold out the mouse to him.

"I know it´s not what you´d want if you had a choice," the potions master said gently, "but it´s all we have and the longer you think about it, the more disgusting you will find it. Eat the tablet first and then wash the bad taste down with the mouse. Mice are quite nourishing."

The cat looked as if it was going to be sick, but it ate the tablet and the mouse.

"Stay in cat form. The medicine will have greater effect on a small body," advised the potions master. "Try to sleep."

Potter nodded once before he curled in a ball and closed his eyes.

Snape resumed his mice hunt and retired to the boys side after eating two.

-x-

The boy felt better the next morning. Snape felt his forehead again and declared Potter free from fever.

"Nevertheless," Snape said, "we´re going to be careful. We have only one tablet left and therefor can´t risk you being ill again. You´ll take it easy today. You will transform and I will carry you. Come evening, we´ll go to the next village and we´ll see whether those kitty eyes of yours can get us dinner."

"You can´t carry me all day," protested the younger wizard. "Even in cat form I´m heavy!"

"Jim," sighed the potions master, "don´t you think, knowing my course of life, that I survived worse things than carry a cat for a day?"

"Actually, Toby," said the boy, "I don´t know much about your life. You´re a spy for the Order and a teacher, but apart from that..."

"My life isn´t of interest for you."

"To be honest, I´m a bit curious," murmured the teenager.

"Now is not the time to talk," muttered the potions master. "Transform!" he added a bit more harshly.

Potter looked as if he was going to argue, but then he did as he was told. Snape picked the big black cat up and went on through the snow, north.

The potions master didn´t take a break. What good would it have been? He had nothing to eat or drink and there was no warm place to offer some shelter from the wind. By evening it started to snow and Snape approached a village.

"I could do with some food," he said as he sat the cat on the ground. "So do your best."

Potter waited until his teacher had transformed. Then he set out for the first house. The boy jumped onto the sill and looked in through the window. After a minute he miaowed and scratched the pane. There was no reaction. Potter tried again five minutes later but it was no use. At last he gave up on that house and signalled the potions master to follow him to the next.

It looked as if they were going to stay hungry and cold. All the reaction they got was a dog being pushed out of a door, which chased them through the backyard. Snape didn´t remember ever running so fast.

They sat on an apple tree, both panting. The dog – a huge German police-dog – barked at them from the other side of the fence.

"Shut up, stupid cur!" A muggle woman shouted from the house.

Potter made ready to jump from their tree at once. Snape signalled him to stay on the tree, but the boy winked at him and left the relative safety of the tree-top.

"Miaow!" Potter approached the woman on soft paws.

"Did that stupid git set his dog on you?" the woman asked as Potter stepped nearer. "Are you hungry? Do come in!"

The boy looked behind him, where Snape approached carefully.

"Oh, you have a friend!" the woman smiled. "Come in, kitty, kitty."

The two wizards followed the muggle inside. The woman went straight to the fridge and set a bowl of milk in front of her two guests. Both cats started to lick up the milk eagerly.

"So, whose are you?" The woman´s voice startled them out of their meal. "Your fur is shiny. You´re not strays. Parker´s? Their brats trampled on my daisies. Or has Mrs. Miller, the old bat, new pets? Hmm? She doesn´t greet me in the street. Or – oh I hope so! – has old Mr. Winterbottom been hiding you so far? He said I´m crazy when I asked him to cut his chestnut-tree to give my roses more sun."

Snape thought that old Mr. Winterbottom had a point, when the woman approached them with a broom in her hand.

"Anyway," the muggle continued sweetly, "they won´t get you back!"

The potions master hissed and retreated. Potter followed his lead, arching his back and ruffling up his fur.

"You can´t escape," the woman swung her broom. The two cats retreated further until they were backed against the wall. The muggle struck and nearly hit Potter. The younger animagus fled past her under the kitchen table, but she followed, all the while trying to hit him with her broom.

Snape made a quick decision. He couldn´t let the Boy-Who-Lived, the Teenager-Who-Bested-The-Dark-Lord be killed by a crazy muggle with a broom. He transformed and grabbed the broom from behind. The woman shrieked and struggled with surprising strenght. They fought for the broom, the potions master silent and with controlled movements, the muggle shrieking and struggling like a fish in a net.

Suddenly there was another pair of hands. Potter, the potions master realised, had come to his aid. Together, they defeated the muggle hag.

"Witchcraft! Humbug! Witchcraft!" the muggle shouted when the potions master forced her onto one of her kitchen chairs.

"Be quiet, or I´ll hex your tongue off!" Snape snarled. "Keep an eye on her. If she makes one suspicious move, turn her into a frog."

"Yes, Toby," said Potter. "But may I remind you that I don´t know the countercurse?"

"The better. You need to practice."

"But the last two died when I tried."

"Who cares?"

All through the dialog – the muggle was barely breathing – the potions master searched the kitchen cupboards. When he finally found what he was looking for, he filled a glass and set it in front of the woman.

"Drink!" he ordered.

The woman obeyed with shaking hands. The potions master refilled her glass. And again. And again.

Potter watched, horrified, as the older wizard forced half a bottle of wodka into the muggle.

"What have you done?" the boy hissed when the muggle collapsed on the table, snoring.

The potions master shrugged. "Muggle version of obliviate. Now, let´s see what she has to eat."

Five minutes later, they had a dinner of bacon and cheese sandwiches and tea.

"We can´t stay over night and we have to make sure she doesn´t remember us when she wakes," said Snape as he wiped his mouth after the meal.

"I´ll clean away the milk," offered Potter.

"And I´ll see what the lady can provide for our journey."

"Do you want to steal from her?" Potter was shocked.

"She tried to kill us. Regard it a compensation."

"But..."

"Jim, would you say no to another bus ride?" The potions master cocked an eyebrow.

"No, Toby, not at all."

"I thought so. You clean the kitchen and I do the stealing."

Snape searched the bathroom and found several boxes of medications. He scanned the instructions and pocketed those against fever and pain. In the bedroom, he found the woman´s purse. He took only a small sum, enough to take them a good distance north, but not so much that the muggle couldn´t dispense with it.

When he returned to the kitchen, Potter waited for him with a small plastic bag in his hand. "Breakfast," the boy grinned.

"Well thought, Jim. Put it in your pocket or it won´t transform with you." The potions master opened the back door a crack. Then he transformed and slid outside to the backyard. Potter, he realised, was right behind him. They crossed the village and settled behind some garbage bins behind the last house. There, they snuggled up to each other in a ball and soon both wizards were asleep.


	8. Chapter 8

Snape, the cat, woke early the next morning. He nudged his companion with his nose and – after the younger wizard had stretched extensively – made them hike to the next village before breakfast. It wouldn´t do them good to be nearby, if the muggle started a witchhunt.

He signalled the boy to transform and they walked into the village.

"Excuse me, Sir," the potions master asked the first person they met, an elderly muggle in a blue parka, "is there a bus from this village to the north?"

The muggle eyed the two wizards in their worn-out robes suspiciously. "The station is next to the church," he muttered. "You better hurry, the morning bus is due any minute."

With a quick word of thank-you, the two wizards took off towards the church at a run. They caught the bus just in time. The driver looked them up and down. "Where?" he asked.

"As far as this will take us," Snape produced the notes he had taken from the muggle the previous evening.

"Is the boy eighteen?" The driver asked.

"No, Sir, I´m not," Potter said politely. "Not even seventeen."

"Then you need only a children´s ticket. That will be Crask Inn for an adult and a child," said the driver after looking the price up in a table.

"Crask Inn is fine," said the potions master. He pocketed the change and the tickets. "How long will it take?"

"Two hours, ten minutes, according to the schedule, probably a bit longer in this weather."

Potter got them seats in the rear of the bus and as soon as the bus was on its way, he unpacked their breakfast. They shared their sandwiches in silence. There was only a small tin of apple juice to drink, but seemingly the murderous muggle hadn´t kept any better in her kitchen.

"How are you feeling today," Snape asked with concern after he had washed down the last of his meal. "No fever?"

"No, I´m fine, Uncle Toby. How far do we have to go from Crask Inn?"

"Not so far. Another week of hiking, I guess."

"One more week? That´s great." Potter entertained himself by looking out of the window for the rest of the ride. One could come to believe that the boy hadn´t travelled by bus before. Snape made a mental note to ask when they were alone. The boy had behaved like that on their last ride, too.

The journey to Crask Inn took nearly three hours due to heavy snowfall. When they got off the bus, the potions master led the way to a quiet side street with long, determined strides. As soon as they were away from muggle eyes, he transformed. They left the town heading east and followed what seemed to be a muggle tourist footpath, going by the many signs. They passed several small lakes until they found a bit of shelter between a wall of rock and a group of trees. There, Potter transformed.

"We´re going in the wrong direction," the boy pointed out. "We´re heading east."

"I know," replied Snape, leaning his back against the rock and wrapping his robes tightly around him. "We told the driver we were heading north. It´s safer to take a sidetrack."

"But this way we´ll take longer."

"I´d rather return safely on the tenth than be caught on the ninth day."

The boy bit his bottom lip. "I know, but I´m so tired and sometimes I think I can´t walk one day longer," he admitted softly.

"I´m tired, too," the potions master pointed out. "But we have to be careful. We are quite close. Only some days longer and we can rest."

The boy nodded.

"Come here, it´s cold." Snape held out an arm, offering warmth and shelter. The boy snuggled up to him without hesitation. Minutes later the youth was asleep, giving in to his exhaustion. Snape didn´t dare sleep. They couldn´t get caught by muggles again. The incident on Christmas day had been a close call.

The potions master´s thoughts wandered as he watched over the sleeping boy wonder. He looked down on the tousled head in his arms. If anybody had told him three months ago that Harry His-Father´s-Son Potter was going to sleep snuggled up to him willingly and that he, Severus Bane-Of-All-Gryffindors Snape, was not only going to allow the arrangement but offer it, he´d have called for a healer to examine the person´s mind. But here he was, holding the Golden Boy and feeling rather protective of him. If only Albus could see them. The old coot, who´d been pestering Snape about being too harsh with the boy, would be beside himself with joy.

Potter woke two hours later, but not one minute too early. Snape felt all stiff and if he had to sit one minute longer, some of his joints were going to suffer permanent damage. As soon as the boy had disentangled himself from Snape´s embrace, the potions master stood and stretched.

"Are we going on?" Potter asked, scrambling to his feet.

"No, we´ll wait for the snowfall to lessen or at least until it´s no longer that stormy. We´re at least safe from the worst cold here."

"Is that wise? We´re in the middle of nowhere."

"We may go hungry for a while if we stay, but if we go on in a snowstorm in these clothes, we´ll certainly catch a cold."

"I have a chocolate bar. We can share it," Potter offered.

"The old lady had a sweet tooth?"

The boy nodded. "I thought I´d keep it for the evening, in case we don´t find anything."

"That was good thinking. With your chocolate bar we can afford to stay until morning if need be."

They sat in silence for a while and Snape thought it would be a very awkward day unless one of them started a conversation.

"Who taught you how to bake scones, Jim?"

"My aunt."

"I never thought of you to be into cooking."

"I didn´t volunteer, exactly. It was obey or suffer the consequences."

"Consequences?" Snape asked with a foreboding of doom. He remembered the consequences his own father used to deal out when faced with disobedience only too well.

Potter didn´t answer for a while and the potions master was trying to determine how to word the question again. He didn´t want to seem prying, but he had to know.

"The cupboard." Potter´s voice was almost too soft to hear.

"The cupboard?"

"It was where I lived until I came to Hogwarts. The cupboard under the stairs. My uncle prefered to keep me there unless I was useful. Being useful included helping my aunt with the cooking." The boy´s voice was barely a whisper.

Snape gathered Potter closer protectively and the boy welcomed the warmth that was offered.

"I saw the cupboard during our lessons," the potions master said softly. "I thought it was one punishment. I didn´t realise it was where you lived or I´d have informed Dumbledore."

The boy snorted. "Dumbledore knows. My Hogwarts letter had the proper address. Harry Potter, Cupboard under the stairs."

"Sssshhh," Snape said soothingly. "No names, Jim."

"Sorry." The boy sounded bitter.

"I don´t think it´s dangerous to use them here, but we need to get..."

"...used to using Toby and Jim. I know." The boy yawned. "Is it okay if I sleep a bit?"

"Mmh."

The potions master guarded the boy´s sleep, deep in thought about how he had thought Potter was a pampered child.

-x-

The snowfall and wind weakened a bit during the night. As soon as the potions master considered the conditions good enough, they shared the chocolate bar and then hiked on. They couldn´t go as cats as the snow was too high on the path. Walking was difficult enough in human form. After a whole night of walking they reached the village of Syre.

"We have to be careful," said Snape. "We don´t know how big an area they´re surveilling and we´re quite close to Hogwarts. We can´t be seen in human form, neither by wizards nor by muggles. Cat form is the only safety we have."

"But with that much snow we can´t travel in catform," Potter pointed out.

"We have to walk by night and rest in catform by day. When we get closer to Hogwarts, we´ll have to stay in cat form for safety´s sake."

"Sounds like a plan. Now let´s see if we can get something to eat."

The potions master grabbed the boy´s shoulder before he could transform. "Kindly find someone of clear mind this time."

"I´ll do my best." Potter winked cheekily.

The boy´s best turned out to be a small inn. There were no guests that early, but the landlady – a slim brunette with kind brown eyes – was in and cleaning the tables. A delicious smell from the kitchen promised a stew for lunch.

Potter slid into the guest room and approached the woman carefully. Snape followed with even greater care. He tried to stay away far enough to run quickly if they had to, but also close enough to the boy to come to his aid if need be.

"Hello, beautiful," the landlady greeted Potter, the cat. "Where did you come from?"

"Miaow!"

"Can´t you find your way home? Poor dear!"

Potter rubbed his head against the lady´s calves as soon as he was sure she was friendly. He purred like a little motor.

"You know," the muggle bent down to scratch the cat´s head. "I have an idea. Most people from the village come here sooner or later. So you can just wait for your family here. What about it?"

The young wizard purred even louder. The woman wasn´t going to let him wait on an empty stomach. After he had allowed the muggle to pat his head for a while he slid towards the door where Snape was waiting and rubbed his head against the other cat. Snape took the hint and mirrored Potter´s behaviour, especially the purring.

The muggle watched the two cats delightedly.

"Angus!" she cried after a little while. "Angus, look how cute!"

Snape thought it was funny how he didn´t mind that word any longer if only he was fed.

Angus turned out to be a redhaired muggle with a flaming red moustache. "Cute, indeed," the large man agreed goodnaturedly.

"I thought we could keep them until their people take them home," suggested the lady. "It´s freezing cold outside and neither of the neighbours would thank us if we let their pets freeze."

"Whatever you say, Hun," Angus pecked the brunette on her cheek. "But they can´t come into the kitchen."

"Of course not," the lady slapped the redhead on the arm playfully. "What do you think of me! I´ll get them something out here."

Angus murmured something about preparing a bowl of scraps and trotted back to the kitchen. The woman closed the front door – "Enough fresh air." – and left through a door in the back. The two cats used the time to look for an escape in case they needed it, but their caution turned out to be to no purpose. The woman returned soon with a thick blanket, which she put into a back corner near the bar.

"Come here, kitty, kitty," she cried softly. She patted the soft fabric with her hand. When Potter approached her she stroked his fur twice. "Here. Make yourself comfortable. This is your space until your family gets you. – You too. Come here."

Snape allowed himself to be stroked, too, but only once. The muggle smiled at the two cats, before she continued her work. When was she going to feed them? The potions master certainly wasn´t going to complain about a clean, dry and warm place, but after their forced diet some milk would be nice. He´d even settle for muggle cat food from tins.

They had to wait for nearly an hour, but then the muggle provided a feast. They got a bowl of shepherd´s pie (cold and not very beautifully arranged, but delicious), some scraps of sausage (cold again) and a bowl of milk! The two wizards fell upon their meal as if they were starving, which was not too far from the truth.

After a rich meal – the landlady brought more milk after they had emptied the bowl – the two cats curled in balls on their blanket and slept the day away.

Snape woke when he was hit by a cold draught. Going by the dusky light outside it had to be quite late in the afternoon. More muggles were coming to the inn. Seemingly the first guests were arriving. Soon the parlour was filled with people. Most of them came for tea and some scones or sandwiches, some men ordered beer.

Potter took in the crowd for a while before he approached one of the tables. He rubbed his cheek on a kid´s leg and was rewarded with some scraps off the boy´s plate.

"Oi, Lily," cried the kid´s father merrily, "did you get yourself another pet? Didn´t you say the other day you wouldn´t after old Barky died?"

The landlady joined her guests. "They aren´t mine. They came in this morning and I let them stay until their people pick them up."

"They?" the boy asked curiously.

"They," the landlady, Lily – Snape took it as a good omen – , affirmed. "There are two. This big one and a smaller one. Where is he?" She bent down to scratch Potter´s ears and the cat leaned into the touch. Snape pawed closer on cue. "Ah, here." She scratched Snape´s ears, too, before she went back behind her counter.

The potions master took a leaf out of the younger wizard´s book and went to the muggles for food. Potter, he had to admit, was more skilled and got more to eat, but he, Snape, got his fill, too.

The two cats went from table to table. Angus – if it was him who did the cooking – was a good cook. Especially the shepherd´s pie was delicious and Potter spent most of the time with people who had ordered it. When they both had had enough, Snape signalled the boy and they slipped outside when another muggle entered the inn.

They trotted through the village and then turned north. Time to be back on track towards Hogwarts. When the muggle village had disappeared behind a hill, the potions master transformed and Potter followed his lead.

"Listen, Jim," the older wizard said seriously, "we do not know how big an area the deatheaters are guarding. We do know that they´re waiting for us near the school to get us when we try to enter the grounds. Our advantage – the only one we have – is that they have no idea about us being animagi. So we´ll walk a bit in human form this night, but after we transformed in the morning we won´t resume human form unless in case of emergency or on Hogwarts grounds."

"Do you mean after this night we´ll travel in cat form? In this snow? Toby, it´s higher than any of us in cat form!"

"We might be a bit slower, but it´s safer."

The boy seemed determined to cover as much distance as possible on his legs as long as he had the opportunity to use them. He hurried along the path in long strides and sometimes Snape had difficulties not to fall behind. When dawn showed itself on the horizon, they went as near to the next village as they dared and resumed cat form.

Potter, the boy, had managed to maintain an image of strenght, but Potter, the cat, couldn´t. It was obvious that the young wizard was dead tired. He didn´t even try to get into a muggle house, but instead went straight to the stable of a farm at the edge of the village. There, the boy hunted down a mouse without much ado and ate it. If Snape hadn´t been aware how much the boy hated the small rodents, the butt-wiggling going with the hunt would have been endearing. As it was, he was aware how tired and desperate the boy must be to settle with a mouse for a meal without complaint.

Snape followed his companion´s lead and helped himself to a mouse, too. Little later, both cats were asleep in the hay.


	9. Chapter 9

Snape woke to the sounds of cattle moving and a cheerful voice greeting the animals.

"Good evening, ladies," a muggle in blue work trousers and a tartan shirt cried. "Did you have a good day, Bess, Molly, Lucy?" The farmer patted the cows´ necks as he walked past them. He went to another room through a wooden door and returned little later with a bucket and a stool.

The potions master watched as the muggle sat beside a cow, washed its udder with a wet rug and started to milk it. He could hardly refrain himself from dashing to the muggle and begging for milk. Then an idea sprang to his mind. He went for another mouse and approached the muggle with it in his mouth.

"Oi," cried the farmer, "you are new! Did old Daisy allow you in? How did you get her to?"

Old Daisy? Who was that?

The question lost importance when the farmer went to one of the small windows high in the walls and fetched a small bowl from the sill. He poured some milk fresh from the cow into the bowl and set it in front of the potions master.

Snape hadn´t taken but two or three licks, when something hit his side.

It was a huge tabby cat. The biggest feline he had ever seen, if you didn´t count the picture of a tiger in one of his potions texts (´The three uses of tiger whiskers´).

"I take it you are not a new friend of Daisy´s," the farmer laughed.

Daisy, the giant cat, hissed and spit, clawed and bit. Snape did his best to fend her off, but he was barely half as big as the other cat which also had the advantage of having been a cat all her life.

Suddenly there was Potter. The two black cats fought nail and tooth. The three animals rolled in a spitting ball, the milk bowl was knocked over, the precious liquid was spilt. With their forces joined, the two wizards finally managed to break free from the tabby monstrosity and fled the stable. They were both soaked to the skin, which was not good at all in the freezing cold.

They ran until they were sure Daisy – who had named the beast? – wasn´t following them. Then they sat, both panting. They were wet and cold and hungry. Potter blinked at the potions master owlishly. Then he leaned closer and started to lick his teacher´s fur. Snape thought about pushing the boy away before he realised how clever the youth was. It was the solution for their problems at hand. It would dry their fur – or at least remove the worst soak – and feed them at the same time.

Painfully aware of the inappropriateness of the action the potions master mirrored Potter´s action and started to lick his student´s neck.

-x-

After they had done what they could for their fur, the two cats left the village. Taking a path through the fields was impossible with all the snow, so they had to hike along a street. They were lucky. There was one leading north. Snape quickened his pace several times after making sure that the boy was able to follow. There was no use in lingering. The quicker they got to back home the better. So far north and given the weather they were going to freeze to death within some days. And running had at least a bit of a warming effect.

When the morning came, Potter approached the first house he layed his eyes on. He walked up the drive and sat in front of the doors, miaowing pitifully. Snape thought this was not really a good way to get fed, because who was going to hear a cat in front of their door?

He was in for a surprise, because barely ten seconds later a boy of perhaps eleven or twelve (Snape would have put him into first year if he had to guess) opened the door and beamed at them. Maybe luck was with the bold after all. That, or the stupid.

They were taken into the house and fed in the kitchen. They snuggled up to the heating and the boy sat by their side and stroked their fur. The kid was quite gentle and so it wasn´t really a high price to pay for a meal.

"Norman, where did you get these beasts from?" a muggle woman shrieked all of a sudden. "Are those strays? They´re probably full of bacteria. Go and wash your hands!"

Norman wasn´t happy about it, but he obeyed. His mother glared at the two cats, her lips pursed tightly. The two cats shrank back in fear. What was the muggle going to do? Snape shuddered to think she might attack them and force them to resume human form so close to Hogwarts.

"Mum, can I play with the cats? Purleeeease?" Norman begged when he returned from the bathroom.

"No! They´re dirty. I´m thinking about how to get rid of them without touching them."

"But Mum!" Norman whined.

"No!"

"And if I wash them?"

The woman thought about it. Snape started to chant a silent prayer. "Toss us outside! Please, please, please, toss us outside."

"This might be a good idea, Norman. We have to bathe them."

Potter hissed and arched his back. Snape gritted his teeth. One thing was for sure. If the woman put him into a bath, he was going to bite her!

"Go and get Dad, we´ll need help." The muggle woman glared at the two cats speculatively while her son left the room to tell his father that he was needed.

"Yes, dear?" Norman senior turned out to be a giant of a man.

"Norman wants to keep these cats as pets," the woman informed her husband. "This is, of course, out of question unless we bathe them. Especially the shabby one. And we´ll need to see a vet."

"As you say," the man pecked her on the cheek.

"I´ll prepare the tub, bring them in five minutes." The woman turned on her heel and headed for the bathroom.

"May I stroke them, Dad," Norman pleaded. "I´ll wash my hands!"

"Go ahead," grinned the muggle, "but don´t tell your mother."

The child beamed and seized the potions master. Snape struggled with all his power, but the boy was astonishingly strong.

"I think the five minutes are up," the man said a little later. "Let me carry them and you close the door behind me. Cats usually don´t like a bath. Be prepared for a fight."

A fight they did put up, but in they end both wizards were thrown into a tub full of water. And what was more, the water was cold. The woman soaped Snape´s fur first, while Norman senior held Potter. Norman junior watched with glee. After the potions master had been washed to the woman´s satisfaction, she shoved him towards her husband and took hold of Potter.

If he hadn´t been covered in lavender-scented foam himself, the potions master would have found the Boy Wonder´s face funny. Never had he seen the young wizard that miserable. After a thorough soaping of Potter, they were both rinsed under the shower and then rubbed nearly dry with old towels.

"Don´t let them out of the bathroom until I have gotten rid of that rug they were sitting on earlier. We can´t have them catch the germs they were carrying again." The woman left the two Normans in charge of the cats and set out for her task.

Snape hoped she was going to let them sit near some kind of heating. The sooner their fur was dry the better. Now they were in severe danger. As long as they were wet, they had to take whatever the muggles chose to deal out as flight from the house meant certain death in the cold.

A little later they were set on a blanket beside a radiator. Potter seemed to be as aware of the danger as Snape for he sat as close to the heater as he could without being burned. It took them quite long to dry. They had spent most of the winter outside and their fur was rather thick.

It was nearly evening, when they were fed. Cat food from tins it was. Snape wondered how real cats could eat it, for it tasted vile. But then real cats had never indulged in a meal provided by the Hogwarts elves, so perhaps they just didn´t realise how bad the food was. Well, at least it was better than mice.

After their meal both cats watched out for a way to leave the house, but there was no opportunity. The three muggles stayed inside all the time. Norman juniour spent the whole day playing with his new pets. Potter chased after a small rubber ball obediently for hours. It was in the afternoon that the potions master had pity on his exhausted companion and had a go at the ball himself. After a quarter hour Snape had enough of the game and pushed the ball behind the kitchen cupboard. Norman spent the next half hour trying to get the ball back, then half an hour being shouted at by his mother for getting dirty and another half hour taking a bath.

When the boy came back, he glared angrily at the potions master and started to feed Potter small pieces of sausage.

"Want some?" he teased Snape only to pull away when he moved in to sniff at the proffered bit, "then you´d better been nice to me."

The older wizard swished his tail twice – the cat´s equivalent of a shrug – and retreated onto their new blanket, from where he watched Potter being fed salami.

When Norman´s bedtime came, there was another tense moment.

"Why can´t they sleep in my bed, Mum," the boy wailed. "We bathed them! They´re as clean as a cat can be!"

"I won´t have you scratched by two wild animals in your sleep. This is my last word." Snape thanked whatever goddess had convinced ´Mum´ of that. They had to get out of the house and hike on, but how could they if the boy took them to his room?

It was after midnight when the house was finally quiet and Snape dared to check on the front door. They were lucky. The key was in the lock.

The potions master jumped and hung on the door-handle with one of his front paws. He tried to turn the key, but it turned out difficult as it wasn´t one of those oldfashioned, big keys wizards prefered, but a modern one. A small one.

Suddenly he was seized from the handle by gentle hands and set on the floor. A hand stroked his head soothingly. The potions master turned in panic to fight the muggles nail and tooth if need be, but it was Potter who was standing behind him, gesturing to be quiet. The boy reached for the key and turned it. Then he pushed the handle and pulled the door open just wide enough to allow a cat through. Having established an escape route, the young wizard winked at his companion mischieveously, transformed and slid outside.

Snape followed like a shadow.

-x-

The potions master, who had learned early to always assume the worst, waited for desaster to strike all night while they hiked farther north. The boy had transformed in that muggle house against Snape´s advice and while part of him argued that it had been reasonable – they couldn´t have opened the door in cat form – an other, even bigger part of him wanted to strangle Potter for risking discovery.

Desaster, it seemed, had other plans for the night and didn´t come to meet the two wizards on their way through the highlands. In fact, it seemed they were experiencing a streak of luck. It was still cold, but dry and there was no wind at all. Snape was just going to point his companion towards the next village to take a rest for the day, when a horse-drawn vehicle overtook them. A young muggle with earplugs held the reins lazily.

Potter, being a Gryffindor, didn´t hesitate for an instant. He ran after the wagon and jumped. Snape thought he was going to suffer a heart attack. True, the vehicle was open, so they could jump on and off easily, but they couldn´t see what was on it. What if the boy had jumped into a load of dangerous creatures? Or poisonous plants? Then he remembered that the driver was a muggle – the earplugs gave him away – and that muggles weren´t nearly as likely to transport dangerous stuff as wizarding folks.

He was just going to run and join Potter, when the other wizard peeked over the dropside to see why he didn´t come after him. Snape caught up with the wagon with some big jumps and a moment later he sat beside Potter on a soft heap of hay. Behind the driver´s seat there were some dirty sacks of what smelled like chicken food, but most of the vehicle was filled with hay.

Potter acknowledged his arrival with a nod and stalked to a corner of the wagon. The place, Snape noticed, was well chosen. There was a soft matress of hay, the driver´s view of it was blocked by a heap of the material, it was protected from draught but nevertheless close enough to the dropside to flee quickly if need be. The younger wizard curled in a ball and closed his eyes. Snape followed his lead in curling up, but he didn´t dare to sleep. The muggle might seem harmless, but he wasn´t going to take a risk.

The potions master checked from time to time whether their muggle taxi was still heading north. By noon he thought he might not be able to stand the hunger much longer, but he wasn´t ready to give up this means of transport for some scraps of sausage. The horses went slowly, but steadily and every mile they covered by carriage they didn´t need to cover on paw.

It was the horses Snape was counting on. The muggle had to stop and give them a rest, feed them. When he did, they could try to get some food and then catch the wagon again for another trip north.

An hour after noon the muggle directed his vehicle to the left and soon they came to a halt in front of a farm house. Snape woke his companion with a nudge of his nose and they left their hiding place stealthily while the muggle greeted the farmer. The two cats sneaked into the closest stable, which turned out to be a good choice. There was a bowl of cat food on the floor and for the first time in over five months on the road they had luck on their side. The resident cat was smaller than them.

Potter hissed at the small tabby and it retreated, its ears flat on its head. The two wizards wolfed down as much of the dry feed in as short a time as they could manage. Potter stayed between the tabby and his smaller companion all the time. After a quick drink from the tabby´s water bowl, they hurried back to the wagon.

The muggle was nowhere to be seen. The horses chewed lazily on a big bucket of oat. The two cats jumped back onto the wagon. Some of the sacks were missing. They went back to their cosy corner in the hay and this time the potions master went to sleep while Potter sat guard.

-x-

Snape wouldn´t have bet on their luck to last, but it did. The muggle went north for the rest of the day. When the wagon reached another farm and it became clear that their driver wasn´t going to travel farther this day (a young blonde greeted him with a passionate kiss and they entered the house arm in arm) the two cats set out to continue their journey on paw.

The potions master tried to figure out how far they had come. Some days earlier, he had said that they had another week of hiking before them, but today they had travelled in their sleep and probably saved several days. He looked around carefully, searching for some kind of landmark he might recognise, but he had rarely approached Hogsmeade the muggle way and the incoming darkness didn´t exactly help. For all he could say, they could be minutes from the magical village as well as days.

Potter was in a good mood. The boy had been rather subdued the last days. Snape couldn´t begrudge him. The younger wizard was physically and psychically exhausted. The potions master guessed that the situation was easier to bear for himself as he had experienced far worse during his service of the Dark Lord. But Potter had been, if not loved and pampered – Snape had lost that illusion on their journey – so at least safe, fed and dry all his life. Petunia might not have spoiled her nephew, but on an overall view she had at least given him a home.

The young wizard hopped around the potions master playfully like he had done back in September, when they had just started their journey and the boy had no idea of the ordeals to come. He ran ahead and came back, nudging the potions master with his nose as if trying to make him hurry.

Snape complied gladly. He was determined to make the best of Potter´s enthusiasm for as long as it lasted. While he hurried after the boy, he thought of how to prolong Potter´s positive mood. Then, all of a sudden, Severus Snape was startled out of his reverie. About fifty meters in front of him, Harry Potter stood rooted to the spot on the top of a hill.

The potions master raced to the boy´s side. It wouldn´t do to lose his charge so close to home. After a quick glance at the other cat, he followed his companion´s eyes and gasped. It wasn´t the village down in the valley, that caught his attention, but the brightly illuminated vision on the opposite ridge.

There, overlooking the valley and the big lake in the background, stood Hogwarts castle.

-x-

It took them both several minutes to overcome the feeling of awe and longing and move again. Carefully watching out for deatheaters, Snape led the way into the bushes by the street. They couldn´t risk walking into Hogsmeade – and the only way back to Hogwarts was through the village as a detour to the Forbidden Forest wasn´t recommendable for two common house cats – on the street.

The potions master hoped that Potter was aware just how vital cattish behaviour was. The deatheaters didn´t know about them being animagi, but they had one in their own ranks and if the two fugitives acted suspiciously, one of their pursuers would sooner or later remember Wormtail´s special abilities.

They hadn´t put but some meters between themselves and the street, but the magic of the Forbidden Forest was strong and Snape couldn´t help feeling as if he was in the middle of the magical wood. There were sounds that couldn´t be heard anywhere else in Britain, sounds that told of ancient magic and danger. The hoofs of unicorns – they´d trample them to death if they came too close; whilst having a reputation of innocence, those creatures were vicious when it came to encounters with beasts of prey – sounded from a distance. Or were it centaurs? The potions master didn´t wish to end up as a training target for their young. There were also howls of what sounded like werewolves, but could also be common wolves.

Potter felt the danger, too. The bigger cat shivered.

So far it had been safer to travel by night, but here, near Hogwarts, Snape realised, it was daylight they needed. The most dangerous creatures were nocturnal, not counting the deatheaters. With deatheaters, they had the advantage that there was a chance they´d ignore two cats. If those cats behaved like proper cats.

The potions master pushed his companion closer to the road and under a particularly dense bush. The other cat rolled up into a tight ball and as Snape lay down beside the younger wizard he could still feel him shiver. So much for enthusiasm. The howl of a beast had been all it took to bring back exhaustion. The potions master snuggled up to Potter, offering warmth and comfort, which was gladly accepted. After a little while the other cat purred. It was a feeble sound, but it was – undoubtedly – a purr.

In the morning Snape led the way towards the village. They took the route through the edges of the wood, which the potions master had intended to take at night, but found too dangerous. The bushes weren´t nearly as frightening in broad daylight and Potter followed without hesitation.

"I say it´s pointless."

The older wizard stood on the spot and listened. Potter closed the distance between them and stood beside his teacher. There were several minutes of silence, but none of them was willing to go on before they knew who had spoken.

"I´m cold."

It was the same voice, but Snape was aware there had to be at least two persons. Nobody´d soliloquize in the Forbidden Forest. It was vital for humans to not be heard by its inhabitants. The second complaint gave the potions master a direction where to find the stranger. He signalled Potter to stay behind and tiptoed towards from where he thought he had heard the voice.

The boy followed like a shadow.

Snape stopped short and signalled the boy again. Potter shook his head in a very uncattish gesture. If it hadn´t been so unfeline and therefore could mean their discovery, Snape´d have banged his head on the nearest tree trunk. As it was he made a resigned gesture and they tiptoed on.

There were three of them. They wore black winter cloaks and sat around a jar of magical fire. Beside each of them lay a bony-white deatheater mask.

"They won´t be stupid enough to walk through the Forbidden Forest!" One of the men, the same who had spoken before, complained. He rubbed his hands above the jar, to little success. Magical fires weren´t nearly as warm as real ones.

"What else can they do? They have no wands," one of his companions pointed out. "They need to go back to Dumbledore. The street is the only way to reach Hogsmeade without magic – apart from the train, but we guarded that. They can´t risk staying in the forest too long. It´d be suicidal without a wand. So they have to come by here."

"Suicide might be a clever alternative to what the Lord is going to do to them when we catch them." The third man grinned in anticipation. "I don´t want to be in Snape´s shoes for the crown jewels. The Lord is going to roast him alive."

The potions master swallowed hard. Not that this was new to him, but hearing it made it more real, somehow. A slight weight on his side distracted him. Potter was rubbing his head on the potions master´s shoulder. The gesture was comforting, and even more important, quite cattish.

"Why don´t we just wait at the gates?" the first man continued his complaint. "They have to enter the grounds through the gates. If we place a guard there, they´ll fall into our hands like ripe apples."

"Because," came a cold voice from the side, "they have to cross the village to get to the gates and we don´t want them to floo into the castle from one of the houses." Lucius Malfoy stepped out of the shadows. The arrogant blond tucked his cane under his left arm and removed his expensive black leather gloves – dragon? – finger by finger. When he´d finished he took the pair into his right hand and smacked the speaker´s head with a vicious stroke.

The punished deatheater ducked to avoid being hit again.

Lucius stepped to the fire. "We can´t risk them getting help. The Dark Lord would be very displeased if they escaped. It would be wise to not warn them of our presence by shouting like a herd of baboons."

"But..."

The man had barely spoken the first syllable when Lucius drew his wand from his cane like a sword from its sheath with a smooth, elegant move. The man gripped his throat and tried to speak, but no sound left his lips.

"This will teach you," Lucius drawled maliciously. He turned to one of the other two, who had paled considerably. "Any news?"

"No, Sir," he whispered.

"Don´t miss them when they come," Malfoy advised the three deatheaters, "or you´ll have to suffer much worse than my wrath." That said, the blond disapparated.

Snape and his companion observed the three deatheaters a while longer, but not a single word was spoken. The silenced man pointed his wand at his throat several times to no success. Either Lucius´ spell wasn´t easily reversed or the man wasn´t capable of nonverbal spells. The potions master suspected the latter. Nonverbal spells were not something the average witch or wizard accomplished. They were taught at Hogwarts, where the wizarding world´s finest were educated, but not even those were all able to do nonverbals. And Snape didn´t remember this man although, judging by his looks, he must have been in school after Snape had become a teacher nearly two decades ago.

When Snape was sure they weren´t going to learn more from the three guards, he nudged Potter and they slid past the deatheaters´ lair in a wide bow. The older wizard was just going to redirect them towards the street, when he heard a telltale swish. He pushed Potter as hard as he could and the two cats rolled into the bushes. With a loud thud an arrow hit a trunk where the two cats had been a moment ago.

Potter needed no further advice. He scrambled to his feet as quickly as the potions master and the two animagi fled at top speed. Both doubled frequently to not present their attacker an easy target.

"Not bad for a first try," they heard a solemn male voice behind them, but this time they didn´t stop to listen in. They ran and ran until the potions master was sure his lungs were going to explode.

He sat under a tree, panting, and looked where Potter was. The boy was sitting nearby, looking equally enfeebled, which was no surprise given the exhaustion the youth had suffered from for days. As soon as the potions master had caught his breath, he stalked over to his companion.

"Miaow?" he asked, concerned.

Potter looked at him tiredly, but gave a nod, which Snape took to mean that he was as alright as he could be under the circumstances.

Once the potions master could be certain that his charge was well, he looked around to decide how to proceed. It was only then that he saw it. There, barely twenty metres from their position, was the first house of Hogsmeade.

The two cats entered the village through the gardens. Snape led the way from one fenced in patch of land to the next, which was not always easy. Some of the inhabitants didn´t rely on fences to protect their properties, but used also spells. They weren´t so bad that the two cats couldn´t pass, but they caused a tickling feeling and Snape found them rather unpleasant. Potter´s expression told that he saw it the same way.

When they had put some distance between themselves and the "muggle entrance" of Hogsmeade, Snape led the way along the side of a house to the front. They reached the village´s main street near the Three Broomsticks, neither too far from Hogwarts nor too near. There were several people in black cloaks, whom Snape took for deatheaters. Having taught at Hogwarts for nearly two decades and having chaperoned several Hogsmeade weekends every year, he knew most inhabitants of the village at least by sight.

The potions master tried to count their opponents, but it wasn´t easy. Hogsmeade was after all the wizarding metropolis of Scotland. There were always shoppers from smaller communities, so not all strangers were deatheaters. Be it as it may, there were still many of whose being Voldemort´s followers Snape was fairly sure.

"Miaow!"

Snape had nearly forgotten about Potter. What did the boy want? He looked in the direction the younger wizard was looking at and his heart missed a beat. There, in front of a shop window, stood Molly Weasley. A little further down the road was Alastor Moody. The man over there, in the shabby cloak, was that Remus Lupin? The woman with gaudy orange hair beside him could only be Nymphadora Tonks. On second sight, Hogsmeade wasn´t only full of deatheaters, but also members of the Order of the Phoenix!

Of course! Why hadn´t he thought about it earlier? Dumbledore wasn´t going to let the deatheater guard the village without sending his own guards. The headmaster knew they´d try to get back to Hogwarts and did what he could to help.

They couldn´t go to one of their friends, the deatheaters would see them and they couldn´t risk being caught in a fight without wands, but at least there was some backup if they were recognised.

Well, looking was all nice and easy, but it wouldn´t get them home. The Hogwarts gates weren´t but two hundred meters away and they had to cover these two hundred meters one way or the other.

Suddenly Snape had an idea, but how to communicate it to Potter? He nudged the boy with his paw and tried to look meaningly, although he had no idea how a cat actually did look meaningly if ever at all, but he hoped that the other wizard would understand.

Then he arched his back, pricked up his hair and ears and hissed loudly. Potter stared at him for an instant, then he followed his teacher´s lead and hissed back threateningly. Snape raised a front paw, extended his claws and struck at Potter (he missed by a narrow margin, of course). The bigger cat hissed even louder and angrier. He tried to hit his smaller companion (again to no success, but the miss was very narrow).

Snape shrank back and showed his teeth. He tried to hit Potter with several short punches, but his range was too short. The bigger cat advanced on him, hissing and spitting.

Then Snape bolted and Potter gave chase. The witches and wizards in the street watched them with amusement. After hundred meters Potter caught up with Snape and the two cats ended up in a rolling ball of fur. Both cats hissed and showed their claws, but of course neither was hurt.

The humans watched the two cats fighting. Some of the deatheaters laughed. After a short fight, the two black cats broke apart and Snape bolted again, straight towards the Hogwarts gates. Potter came after him and caught up little by little. Snape hissed fearfully, the bigger cat answered angrily. The potions master fled even faster as if the devil incarnate was behind him.

Potter caught the potions master right after they had both jumped through a gap between the bars of the iron gates. They rolled on the gravel drive, but this time neither was hissing. They both felt like laughing and singing.

They were on Hogwarts grounds.

-x-

Albus Dumbledore stood at the entrance of the castle and beamed at them.

"Here you are, my boys," he cried happily. The old wizard bent down and picked both cats up. A beatific smile on his face, he carried the two cats up to his office.

As soon as the headmaster had set them down on the carpet, both wizards transformed.

"Harry! Severus!" Dumbledore was beside himself with joy. He hugged them in turn.

Snape was shocked how tired the boy looked. They hadn´t been able to transform for several days, he knew that the boy was exhausted, but in human form the youth looked even worse than in cat form.

"Albus," the potions master sighed, "you don´t happen to have some of your diabolic sweets here?"

"Sweets, Severus? You haven´t discovered a sweet tooth, have you?" the old wizard was bewildered.

"Hungry," Potter whispered feebly.

"Ah, yes, of course. I´m sorry my boys, how thoughtless of me." He called a house elf and ordered lunch. "And bring some fresh clothes for Professor Snape and Master Potter," he added before the elf left.

A little later, the two animagi had a light lunch of soup, bread and tea in front of Dumbledore´s fireplace. The headmaster informed the order of their safe return while they ate.

"Albus, where is Harry?" Sirius Black entered the room a little later nearly at a run.

The headmaster looked up from the book he was reading and pointed over to his sofa. There, snuggled up in a tight ball, lay two black cats, fast asleep.

-x-

Nineteen days later...

"Potter! For the umpteenth time! Occlude!"

"I´m trying! But I haven´t practiced in months and I was never good at it to start with!"

"Oh yes, I´m looking forward to that! When the Dark Lord attacks you, you´ll tell him that you had no time to practice. He´ll leave you alone and graciously come back when you had some extra training!"

"Voldemort is not going to attack me in the Room of Requirement, you git!"

"What did you just call me, you pathetic excuse for a wizard?"

Harry Potter glared at his teacher angrily and attacked viciously. Severus Snape deflected the spells with ease. He knew which spell the boy was going to use as the youth´s mind was an open book. After some defensive moves he started a counter attack and Potter was propelled against the wall.

"Ouch!" The boy cried out, but was on his feet again in an instant and attacked anew. Only to land on his behind some minutes later.

They had practiced all morning, but Potter´s occlumency was worse than ever. Snape had hoped that the boy would remember what he had learned after a while, but after several lessons the potions master had to see that they had to start all over.

"´m tired," Potter grumbled as he scrambled to his feet for what seemed like the hundreth time.

"Okay, let´s have a break," Snape growled. He followed Potter to the fireplace. The room, he had to admit, was wonderful. It had adjusted to their new needs flawlessly. Ever since they´d returned to Hogwarts, a cat bed waited for them in front of the fireplace when they came for their extra lessons. And ever since they´d found it, it never went unused.

The End.


End file.
